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THE    REBELS;  ' 


OB,  ^ 


BOSTON   BEFORE   THE   REVOLUTION. 


BY 

THE    AUTHOR    OF    "HOBOMOK." 


Here  ihe  free  spirit  of  mankind  at  length 
Throws  its  last  fetters  off;  and  who  shall  place 
A  limit  to  the  giant's  unchained  strength, 
Or  curb  his  swiftness  in  the  forward  race  ? 

Bryant. 


BOSTON: 

PHILLIPS,   SAMPSON   &   COMPANY. 


Ekitered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1850,  by 
PHILLIPS,    SAMPSON    &    CO., 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


STEREOXyPED    BY 

HOBAFtT    &    ROBBINS; 

KBiW    ENGLAND    TYPE   AND    STEREOTYPE    FOUNDERT, 
BOSTON. 


PREFACE 


Nothing  is  more  delightful  to  the  human  mind  than  to 
ascend  from  important  results  to  their  primitive  causes  ;  and 
surely  the  Reformation  alone  has  produced  as  extensive  and 
important  effects  as  the  American  Revolution :  yet  how  few 
understand  the  springs  which  set  that  tremendous  machine  in 
motion  !  America  is  now  vigorous  and  majestic  ;  she  dwells 
in  her  spacious,  sky-canopied  home,  where  the  Pacific  kisses 
her  feet  in  homage,  and  the  Atlantic  touches  her  garments, 
and  rolls  on  more  proudly  than  before.  We  now  hear  her 
youthful  shout  of  freedom  loudly  echoed  by  the  far-off  nations  ; 
but  while  we  exultingly  exclaim,  "  To-day  our  country 
may  stand  against  the  world  !"  we  forget  that,  but  yesterday, 
none  were  so  poor  to  do  her  reverence.  Hercules  decked  with 
a  lion's  spoil  is  before  us  ;  but  the  infant,  struggling  with 
serpents,  is  indistinctly  seen  in  the  distance. 

True,  we  talk  loudly  of  the  battles  we  have  fought,  and  the 
blood  we  have  shed,  in  our  glorious  contest ;  but  there  are 
very  few  among  us  who  duly  appreciate  the  deep  wisdom,  the 
passive  courage,  and  the  unyielding  firmness,  of  those  men, 
who  looked  on  the  mighty  torrent  of  English  power,  jealously 
watched  its  overflowing  tide,  and  fearlessly  exclaimed,  "  Hith- 
erto shalt  thou  come  —  but  no  further."  Had  I  the  power  to 
give  a  faithful  picture  of  the  vacillating  yet  obstinate  course 
of  the  British  ministry,  constantly  changing  their  position,  in 


IV  PREFACE. 

order  to  elude  the  dangerous  weapons  which  gleamed  around 
them,  and  as  constantly  involving  themselves  in  new  and 
unforeseen  difficulties,  —  were  I  able  minutely  to  recount  the 
sounds  of  opposition,  which  grew  louder  and  louder,  as  the 
spirits  of  men  were  stirred  within  them,  and  their  lips  touched 
by  a  living  coal  from  the  altar  of  freedom,  —  I  fear  the  number 
to  whom  I  should  impart  pleasure  would  be  but  small.  Surely, 
however,  the  domestic  annals  of  those  times,  when  the  whole 
community  seemed  heaving  with  the  pressure  of  expanding 
energies,  yet  unconscious  of  the  desperate  effort  that  was  so 
soon  to  tax  its  utmost  strength,  cannot  fail  to  interest  every 
American  heart. 

Thus  much  for  the  period  I  have  chosen.  How  faithfully 
it  has  been  portrayed,  must  be  left  to  critics  less  merciful  than 
myself. 

Many  will  complain  that  I  have  dwelt  too  much  on  political 
scenes,  familiar  to  every  one  who  reads  our  history ;  and 
others,  on  the  contrary,  will  say  that  the  character  of  the  book 
is  quite  too  tranquil  for  its  title.  I  might  mention  many  doubts 
and  fears,  still  more  important ;  but  I  prefer  silently  to  trust 
this  humble  volume  to  that  futurity  which  no  one  can  foresee, 
and  every  one  can  dread. 


THE   REBELS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Geve  place,  you  ladies,  and  be  gone, 

Boast  not  yourselves  at  all ; 
For  here  at  hand  approacheth  one 

Whose  face  will  stayne  you  all. 

Song-  of  the  Sixteenth  Century. 

There  was  hurrying  to  and  fro,  through  the  principal 
streets  of  Boston,  on  the  night  of  the  14th  of  August, 
1765.  A  brilliant  bonfire  was  blazing  on  Fort  Hill. 
Column  after  column  of  light  died  away,  to  rise  again 
with  redoubled  grandeur ;  and  at  each  succeeding  burst 
of  flame,  the  loud  shouts  of  the  rabble  were  heard  with 
dreadful  distinctness. 

At  this  time,  Henry  Osborne  was  passing  do\vn  Union- 
street,  with  the  rapid  pace  of  one  who  struggles  with 
the  intensity  of  thought.  He  leaned  a  moment  on 
Union  Stone,  listening  to  the  distant  tumult,  as  he  said, 
"  Be  the  sin  on  the  heads  of  those  who  have  provoked 
this,  —  I  have  done  all  I  could  to  prevent  it." 

As  he  spoke,  a  graceful  ^stranger,  in  a  rich  military 
undress,  stept  from  a  neighboring  court.  The  moon 
shone  full  on  the  countenances  of  both,  and  as  he  ap- 
proached, he  hesitatingly  said,  "  Mr.  Osborne,  I  believe." 

"  You  are  welcome.  Captain  Somerville,"  replied  the 
other,  giving  him  his  hand. 

1=^ 


6  THE   REBELS. 

"  Thank  you,"  rejoined  the  stranger.  "  I  have  found 
you  very  opportunely;  for  I  have  been  some  time  in 
search  of  a  house  which  every  child  in  this  loyal  town 
might  point  out  to  me.  The  spirit  of  rebellion,  how- 
ever, has  induced  some  of  your  promising  lads  to  mis- 
lead me  by  four  contradictory  directions ;  and  I  am  not, 
even  now,  certain  that  I  am  in  the  vicinity  of  Governor 
Hutchinson." 

"We  are  very  near  his  dwelling,"  replied  Osborne; 
"  and  I  myself  will  accompany  you  thither,  to  meet  my 
sister,  whom  I  left  there  this  afternoon." 

A  few  questions  relative  to  the  riot  were  asked  by  the 
officer,  and  obviously  avoided  by  his  companion,  before 
they  arrived  at  Friezel-court.=^ 

Both  paused  a  moment  opposite  the  lieutenant  gov- 
ernor's elegant  mansion,  struck  by  the  uncommon  beauty, 
and  almost  fearful  stillness,  of  the  scene.  The  dim  light 
of  a  lamp  suspended  from  the  roof  gave  a  rich  twilight 
view  of  the  interior,  and  displayed  a  spacious  arch, 
richly  carved  and  gilded,  in  all  the  massy  magnificence 
of  the  times,  and  most  tastefully  ornamented  with  busts 
and  statues.  The  light  streamed  full  on  the  soul-beam- 
ing countenance  of  Cicero,  and  playfully  flickered  on  the 
brow  of  Tulliola,  the  tenderness  of  whose  diminutive 
appellation  delightfully  associates  the  father  with  the 
orator,  and  blends  intellectual  vigor  with  the  best  affec' 
lions  of  the  heart. 

The  silence  was  so  deep  that  the  gentlemen  could 
distinctly  hear  a  light,  quick  step,  as  a  young  lady 
passed  from  room  to  room,  and  paused  beneath  the  arch, 
in  a  listening  attitude. 

♦  Now  called  Garden-court  street. 


THE    REBELS.  7 

The  exquisite  proportion  of  her  aerial  little  figure, 
and  her  beauty,  pale  and  unearthly  as  Guido  has  repre- 
sented his  Madonnas,  showed  finely  beneath  the  severely 
intellectual  brow  of  Cicero.  In  the  living  figure,  the 
soul  was  shrouded  in  its  loveliest  and  most  transparent 
veil ;  in  the  marble,  its  glowing  fires  seemed  gleaming 
through  the  shrine  they  were  consuming. 

"  It  is  my  sister  Grace,"  whispered  Osborne. 

"  Grace,  indeed ! "  ejaculated  his  companion,  in  a 
tone  of  fervent  admiration. 

"  Hark ! "  said  she,  raising  her  beautiful  finger,  and 
speaking  to  some  one  behind  her,  —  "as  I  live,  there  is 
the  murmur  of  voices  now.  How  could  the  servants 
leave  us  thus  ? " 

She  turned,  and  the  last  fold  of  her  blue  draper}-  was 
just  disappearing,  when  Henry  exclaimed,  "  It  is  I,  dear 
Grace." 

The  tiny  beauty  bounded  to  the  door.  "I  am  so 
glad  you  have  come,  —  we  have  been  so  frightened ! " 
said  she ;  and  she  paused,  and  blushed  deeply,  as  she 
noticed  the  handsome  stranger. 

"My  sister,  Captain  Somen-ille,"  said  Henry,  evi- 
dently proud  of  her  heightened  loveliness. 

A  dignified  courtesy  answered  the  courtly  salutation  of 
the  ofiicer ;  and  her  brother,  turning  to  two  other  ladies 
that  now  advanced,  said,  "  Her  friend,  Lucretia  Fitz- 
herbert,  and  Madam  Sandford." 

The  ceremony  of  introduction  over,  Miss  Sandford 
opened  a  door  on  the  right  hand,  and  led  the  way  into  a 
dimly  lighted  parlor.  The  panelling  was  of  the  dark, 
richly  shaded  mahogany  of  St.  Domingo,  and  orna- 
mented with  the  same  elaborate  skill  as  the  hall  they 


8  THE    REBELS. 

had  just  quitted.  The  busts  of  George  III.  and  his 
young  queen  were  placed  in  front  of  a  splendid  mirror, 
with  bronze  lamps  on  each  side,  covered  with  beautiful 
transparencies,  one  representing  the  destruction  of  the 
Spanish  armada,  the  other  giving  a  fine  view  of  a  fleet 
of  line-of-battle  ships,  drawn  up  before  the  rock  of 
Gibraltar.  On  either  side  of  the  room,  there  were 
arches  surmounted  with  the  arms  of  England,  in  the 
recesses  of  which  the  company  were  soon  seated,  form- 
ing a  group  of  an  exceedingly  varied  and  interesting 
character.  The  sharp  countenance  and  prim  figure  of 
Miss  Sandford  gave  her  the  air  of  an  antediluvian 
image ;  the  inelegant  form  and  very  plain  face  of 
Lucretia,  though  transiently  lighted  up  with  expression 
that  almost  atoned  for  the  want  of  beauty,  formed  a 
contrast  extremely  favorable  to  the  ethereal  loveliness 
of  Grace ;  and  the  Grecian  outline  of  Henry's  mild 
countenance  served  to  place  in  bold  relief  the  aquiline 
nose,  and  the  open,  fearless  brow  of  Somerville,  shaded 
by  a  profusion  of  curls,  as  dark  and  clustering  as  the 
beautiful  locks  of  the  Roman  Antinous. 

"  Uncle  Hutchinson  has  expected  you  several  days," 
said  Lucretia,  as  Somerville  seated  himself.  "  You 
wrote  that  you  should  sail  in  the  William  and  Mary ; 
and  a  vessel  arrived,  several  days  since,  which  had 
spoken  her,  below  the  harbor." 

"It  was  many  miles  below  the  harbor,  however," 
answered  Somerville ;  "  and  I  was  becalmed,  according 
to  my  usual  fortune.  After  so  many  delays,  I  am 
really  anxious  to  meet  my  uncle." 

"  He  would,  of  course,  have  been  among  the  first  to 
welcome  you,  had  he  been  at  home,"  she  replied ;  "  but, 


THE    REBELS.  \) 

followed  by  all  the  servants,  he  has  gone  to  watch  the 
bonfires  on  Fort  Hill ;  where,  I  suppose,  either  indigna- 
tion or  anxiety  has  led  two  thirds  of  the  population." 

"  I  have  heard  some  brief  hints  of  this  day's  uproar," 
rejoined  the  Englishman;  "but  I  could  not  have  imag- 
ined any  cause  powerful  enough  to  seduce  Governor 
Hutchinson  from  the  place  wheic  beauty  claimed  his 
protection." 

"  Nor  would  there  have  been,  in  my  day,"  said  Miss 
Sandford,  in  the  squeaking  tones  of  antiquated  coquetry. 
"  It  was  a  toilsome  process  to  please  a  lady,  when  I  was 
young ;  but  times  are  sadly  altered  now." 

"  I  dare  say  Cain  scolded  his  wife  about  the  degen- 
eracy of  the  ladies  in  Nod,"  said  Lucretia,  laughing. 

"  And  Cain  might  have  reproached  his  mother,  since, 
lacking  mortals,  she  carried  on  her  dangerous  flirtation 
with  Satan,"  continued  Somerville. 

No  one  smiled  at  this  speech,  for  its  levity  was  offen- 
sive to  those  whose  associations  with  the  Bible  were  all 
sacred ;  and  to  Henry  Osborne,  the  irreverence  it  argued 
was  peculiarly  painful. 

Anxious  to  interrupt  the  awkward  silence,  Lucretia 
hastily  said,  "My  uncle  left  the  servants  with  us;  but, 
after  all,  it  seems  that  bonnets  and  hats  cover  brains  of 
very  similar  formation ;  for,  one  by  one,  the  eagerness 
of  curiosity  tempted  them  from  us,  till  we  were  left  to 
the  protection  of  Aunt  Sandford." 

"  And  really  we  have  been  much  frightened,"  added 
Grace.  '^  I  had  no  idea  the  citizens  of  Boston  could 
utter  sounds  so  terrific  as  those  we  have  heard  to-night." 

"  It  would  be  well  if  their  echo  could  reach  across  the 
Atlantic,"  observed  her  brother. 


f*    'It 


10  THE    REBELS. 

"  And  what  would  be  heard,  if  they  did  ? "  asked 
Somerville. 

"  Liberty  and  property  !  No  stamps  !  "  exclaimed 
Henry,  with  startling  energy. 

A  darkening  expression  passed  over  the  fine  face  of 
Somerville,  as  rapidly  as  the  shadows  of  autumnal  clouds 
over  the  sunny  brow  of  some  verdant  hill. 

"  Then  you,"  said  he,  "  are  among  the  unhappy  men 
who  encourage  popular  outrage,  and  will  thus  drive  the 
mother  country  to  severity  repugnant  to  her  nature  ?  " 

"  You  talk,  sir,  as  many  others  do,  who  know  nothing 
of  the  subject,"  rejoined  Henry.  "  You  mistake  the 
unanimous  voice  of  a  free  and  intelligent  people,  for  the 
factious  zeal  of  a  few  office-seeking  demagogues." 

"  And  what  further  proof  need  we  than  James  Otis, 
the  Aaron  of  your  tribes,  the  Goliath  of  your  hosts  ? 
Had  his  father  been  chief  justice  of  the  Supreme  Court, 
the  world  would  have  lost  his  fiery  speech  against  writs 
of  assistance,  as  well  as  his  never-ceasing  clamor  about 
taxation  without  representation." 

"  That  is  a  common,  but  most  unjust  slander  upon 
the  character  of  a  generous  and  noble-minded  man.  He 
is  disgusted,  as  every  honest  individual  must  be,  with 
that  rapacity  for  office  which  distinguishes  some  friends 
of  the  administration ;  but  he  is  too  high-minded  to 
place  the  interest  of  his  family  above  that  of  his  couiv- 
try.  Besides,  if  avarice  or  ambition  guides  the  course 
of  James  Otis,  why  is  he  not  a  tory?  The  ministry 
would  gladly  buy  him  over,  on  any  conditions." 

"  Crystals  would  fetch  the  price  of  diamonds,  if  they 
were  as  rare,"  replied  Somerville.     "  England  has  quite 


THE    REBELS.  11 

too  many  great  men,  to  come  and  purchase  in  such  a 
market  as  her  colonies." 

"  We  have  some,  however,  that  Britain  herself  might 
be  proud  to  boast.  Such  men  as  Adams,  Hawley, 
Quincy,  Hancock,  Mayhew,  and  Otis,  would  even  there 
obtain  the  influence  and  reputation  which  talents,  joined 
"w4th  integrity,  never  fail  to  procure,  from  those  who  can 
appreciate  them." 

"  Stop,  now,  dear  brother,"  said  Grace,  playfully 
putting  her  hand  before  his  mouth.  "  Gov^emor  Hutch- 
inson is  coming,  and  I  cannot  have  you  always  disputing 
about  subjects  on  which  you  will  never  agree." 

The  shadow  of  the  chief  justice  =^  darkened  the 
threshold  as  she  finished  speaking.  He "  bowed  to  the 
ladies  with  all  the  Parisian  gallantry  that  usually  char- 
acterized his  manner:  and  after  warm  congratulations 
had  passed  between  him  and  his  nephew,  he  inquired, 

*'  AVhat  news  from  England  ?  " 

"  Nothing  new  to  you,  I  imagine,  sir.  Lord  Bute's 
ministry  continues  to  keep  the  king  unpopular  among 
the  commons.  Chatham  holds  the  people  in  the  hollow 
of  his  hand  ;  and  if  his  demands  for  himself  and  friends 
were  not  so  excessively  exorbitant,  a  coalition  of  parties 
would  no  doubt  be  formed,  and  he  would  be,  what  he 
has  long  desired  to  be,  secretary  of  state,  and  disposer- 
geneTal  of  offices." 

"  And  the  queen  and  the  young  princes  ? "  said 
Hutchinson. 

*  At  the  period  I  have  mentioned,  Bernard  was  governor,  and  Hutch- 
inson lieutenant  governor.  Among  the  various  offices  held  by  the 
latter,  was  that  of  chief  justice.  I  have  applied  his  different  titles 
indiscriminately. 


v;..  -»i 


12  THE    REBELS. 

"Her  popularity  is  tinbounded.  She  and  her  rosy- 
children  unite  all  parties.  Prince  George  is  as  hand- 
some and  clever  a  scion  as  ever  sprung  from  a  royal 
root ;  'the  Duke  of  York  is  healthy  and  promising ;  and 
a  third  is  now  added  to  the  charming  family  group." 

"  And  the  king  is  as  gallant  as  ever,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Too  much  so  to  leave  three  distressed  damsels  to 
guard  a  house  on  such  a  night  as  this,  I  fancy,"  said 
Lucretia,  smiling. 

"  Nay,"  said  the  lieutenant  governor,  "  I  will  not 
plead  guilty  to  that  charge.  I  left  the  serv^ants  with  you, 
and  I  knew  the  rioters  were  employed  at  a  safe  distance. 
Besides,  it  would  have  been  ungenerous  in  me  to  have 
deserted  Mr.  Oliver,  if  there  was  the  least  chance  of 
being  useful  to  him.  Then  there  is  your  friend  Doctor 
Byles,  Lucretia;  it  behooved  me  to  inquire  about  his 
safety ;  for  we  well  know  that  his  wit  and  his  loyalty 
make  him  very  abominable  in  the  eyes  of  this  liberty- 
mad  race." 

Mr.  Osborne  frowned,  and  Grace  looked  more  grave 
than  usual-. 

"  '  O,  what  a  deal  of  scorn  looks  beautiful  in  the 
contempt  and  anger  of  that  lip,'  "  said  the  gallant  chief 
justice,  handing  her  a  handkerchief  that  had  just  fallen 
on  the  floor.  "  But  really,  Mr.  Osborne,  the  scenes  of 
this  day  and  night  must  convince  the  most  obstinate 
whig  that  the  designs  of  the  popular  party  in  these  col- 
onies are  altogether  subversive  of  good  government,  and 
must  eventually  bring  ruin  on  the  people." 

"  I  know  not  the  extent  of  your  meaning,  when  you 
speak  of  the  popular  party,  sir,"  replied  Osborne  ;  "  but 
of  one  thing  I  am  very  certain,  and  that  is,  that  outrages 


THE   REBELS.  13 

of  any  kind  have  never  been  incited,  and  will  never  be 
countenanced,  by  such  men  as  Adams,  Quincy,  Han- 
cock, and  Whiting.  Indeed,  it  is  worse  than  foolish, 
Governor  Hutchinson,  to  trace  the  present  commotions 
to  the  party  spirit  of  individuals.  The  truth  is,  when- 
ever government  heap  up  combustibles,  a  hand  will  always 
be  found  ready  to  kindle  them ;  and  if  it  were  other^'ise, 
they  would  take  fire  spontaneously." 

"  And  what  damage  has  been  occasioned  by  the  ex- 
plosion, this  time  ?  "  inquired  Somerville. 

"  They  have  merely  suspended  images  of  Lord  Bute 
and  your  cousin  Oliver  upon  the  Liberty-tree ;  razed 
Oliver's  stamp-office  to  the  ground ;  carried  the  images 
and  timber  to  Fort  Hill ;  burned  them  before  his  house  ; 
pulled  dowTi  his  fences ;  broken  his  windows,  and  de- 
stroyed some  furniture,"  answered  the  lieutenant  gov- 
ernor. 

"  This  will  doubtless  sound  well  at  St.  James',  and 
will  mightily  sen^e  to  heighten  the  king's  respect  for 
Bostonian  loyalty,"  said  the  young  officer. 

"  It  may,  at  least,  sen^e  to  convince  his  most  gracious 
majesty  that  we  are  in  earnest,"  rejoined  Henr}^. 

The  politics  of  the  gentlemen,  and  the  confidential 
tete-a-ttte  of  the  ladies,  were  here  interrupted  by  the 
entrance  of  fruit  and  wine.  A  light  and  general  con- 
versation ensued,  and  in  a  few  moments  Grace  rose  to 
depart. 

"  You  have  forbidden  politics  once,  this  evening.  Miss 
O:?borne,"  said  Somen'ille ;  "  and  I  perceive,  by  your 
glances  at  your  brother,  that  you  think  us  most  disobe- 
dient. However,  I  trust  you  will  forgive  what  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  night  seem  to  have  compelled ;    and 

2 


14  THE    REBELS. 

permit  me  to  say,  that  I  am  particularly  rejoiced  that  in 
meeting  Mr.  Osborne,  I  not  only  met  an  old  friend, 
whom  I  had  known  in  England,  but  likewise,  your 
brother." 

Grace  slightly  blushed,  and  said  she  hoped  no  unhap- 
py political  divisions  would  interrupt  their  former  friend- 
ship. 

Osborne  warmly  seconded  his  sister's  wish,  and  ex- 
tended a  polite  invitation  to  the  uncle  of  his  friend. 

"I  see  no  reason  why  you  should  leave  us  at  all 
to-night,  my  dear  Miss  Osborne,"  said  Hutchinson. 

"  Why,  Grace  would  think  me  a  lunatic,  if  I  should 
propose  to  her  to  live  one  night  without  her  father's  kiss 
and  blessing,"  said  Lucretia. 

"  And  not  far  from  right,  my  mad-capped  niece,"  re- 
plied he,  playfully  touching  her  shoulder.  "  However, 
as  you  both  will ;  you  know  your  lovely  friend  is  always 
welcome  twenty-four  hours  in  a  day." 

Grace  smiled  and  bowed.  Somervdlle  took  his  hat, 
said  that  nothing  but  such  a  cause  could  tempt  a  few 
moments'  absence,  and  joined  the  young  people  as  they 
left  the  house. 


CHAPTER    II. 

Fortune,  the  great  commandress  of  the  world, 
Hath  divers  ways  to  advance  her  followers  ; 
:  To  some  she  gives  wealth,  some  wit,  &c. 

All  Pools. 

Captain  Fitzherbert,  the  father  of  Lucretia,  was  the 
youngest  son  in  a  family  of  noble  connections  and  mod- 
erate wealth.  In  his  youth,  he  was  sent  to  Manilla,  at 
the  request  of  a  bachelor  uncle,  who  promised  his  im- 
mense fortune  as  a  reward  for  his  affectionate  attentions. 
This  uncle  proved  tormentingly  ner\'ous,  and  his  whims 
and  caprices  daily  became  more  intolerable  to  a  young 
man  of  the  most  haughty  independence  and  stubborn  in- 
flexibility of  character.  He  wrote  a  letter  to  his  father, 
earnestly  entreating  permission  to  return  to  England. 
The  answer  he  received  was  ^rtly  in  the  language  of 
reason,  partly  of  authority,  and  ended  by  expressly  for- 
bidding him  to  leave  the  East  Indies  during  the  life-time 
of  his  uncle. 

From  that  moment^  he  resolved  to  enter  the  career 
of  life  for  himself,  and  to  spurn  at  the  support  which 
must  be  purchased  by  years  of  servile  dependence.  He 
collected  all  his  money  and  jewels,  procured  the  disguise 
of  a  common  sailor,  and  came  over  to  America,  alone 
and  unfriended.  The  new  world  then  opened  a  fine 
field  for  enterprise,  and  he  soon  accumulated  property. 
He  had  been  for  some  time  successfully  engaged  in 
navigation,  when  he  first  met  Matilda  Howe,  at  Halifax. 


16  THE    REBELS. 

She  was  a  beautiful  and  destitute  orphan,  with  great 
sweetness  of  manners  and  of  temper ;  and  these  quali- 
fications had  so  much  weight  with  the  young  English 
captain,  that  he  very  soon  gave  her  legal  claims  to  his 
protection.  Pride  had  hitherto  induced  him  to  conceal 
his  existence  from  his  friends ;  but  he  was  now  rich,  and 
he  felt  anxious  to  secure  their  friendship,  for  the  sake  of 
his  lovely  wife.  For  this  purpose,  he  left  her,  a  few 
months  after  their  marriage,  intending  to  arrange  some 
business  in  the  West  Indies,  and  from  thence  proceed  to 
Liverpool,  and  discover  himself  to  his  family. 

A  short  letter  from  Cuba  was  all  that  she  ever  after 
received  from  him ;  nor  was  it  long  before  she  heard  the 
dreadful  tidings  of  his  shipwTeck. 

After  the  birth  ©f  the  infant  Lucretia,  Mrs.  Fitzherbert 
proposed  to  the  executors  to  examine  the  papers  of  her 
deceased  husband.  To  her  utter  astonishment  and  dis- 
may, she  found  that  his  strong  box  had  been  opened, 
and  every  paper  of  any  value  removed.  It  was  after- 
wards reported  that,  du^H^g  Mrs.  Fitzherbert's  sickness, 
many  of  the  notes  were  presented  by  a  middle-aged 
man,  and  paid  by  the  unsuspecting  debtors,  who  sup- 
posed that  a  legal  transfer  had  taken  place.  Whoever 
this  villain  was,  no  trace  of  him  could  afterguards  be  dis- 
covered. 

The  distressed  mother  wrote  two  letters  to  England, 
imploring  assistance  from  her  husband's  relations.  The 
first  received  an  insolent  answer,  disclaiming  all  knowl- 
edge of  such  a  being  as  young  Edmund  Fitzherbert,  and 
reproaching  her  with  the  grossness  of  her  impudence. 
The  second  was  returned  in  a  blank  envelope. 

Bowed  down  with  affliction,  the  heart-broken  widow 


THE    REBELS.  17 

soon  after  expired,  leaving  her  child  to  the  care  of 
benevolent  acquaintances. 

The  rent  of  a  small  house,  all  that  remained  of  her 
father's  large  property,  saved  the  orphan  from  the 
misery  of  entire  dependence ;  but  her  young  heart  was 
as  blithe  as  if  thousands  had  been  her  portion. 

When  Lucretia  was  in  her  thirteenth  year,  it  chanced 
that  Miss  Sandford,  the  maiden  sister  of  Mrs.  Hutchin- 
son, visited  Halifax,  and  was  taken  ill  at  the  house 
where  she  resided.  The  overflowing  kindness  and  un- 
remitting attention  of  the  child  won  upon  the  stranger's 
heart,  and  she  formed  the  resolution  of  taking  her  under 
her  own  immediate  protection.  This  lady,  who  pos- 
sessed many  foibles,  united  with  much  shrewdness  and 
great  goodness  of  heart,  brought  the  insulated  little 
being  with  her,  when  she  returned  to  the  dwelling  of 
Governor  Hutchinson. 

To  his  good  opinion,  the  orphan  possessed  two  very 
sure  passports.  One  was  an  honorable  English  name; 
the  other,  a  portion,  scanty,  indeed,  but  sufficient  to  pre- 
vent any  large  expenditure  on  the  part  of  Miss  Sanford, 
whose  property,  he  thought,  would  eventually  devolve 
upon  him. 

Anxious  to  ascertain  whether  her  father's  stor}^  had 
really  been  an  imposture,  he  caused  minute  inquiries  to 
be  made  in  England,  but  could  only  ascertain  that  the 
name  had  become  extinct,  and  that  a  large  estate  in 
Manilla  had  been  settled  on  a  remote  collateral  branch 
of  the  family.  This  last  account  seemed  to  tally  w4th 
the  captain's  story,  and  in  the  governor's  mind  it  estab- 
lished  the   important   point   of    honorable   birth ;    and 

2# 


18  THE    REBELS. 

though  there  was,  seemingly,  no  hope  that  Lucretia 
would  ever  become  an  heiress,  we  must  do  him  the 
justice  ,to  say,  that  he  treated  her  with  extreme  kind- 
ness, up  to  the  period  we  have  mentioned. 

The  morning  after  Somerville's  arrival,  Governor 
Hutchinson  found  a  large  package  on  his  library  table, 
which  his  nephew  had  placed  there,  at  an  early  hour. 
He  opened  it,  and  found  a  polite  letter  from  Goldsmith, 
accompanied  by  the  "  Traveller,"  then  recently  pub- 
lished in  England ;  two  long  and  labored  epistles  from 
Lord  North  and  Mr.  Grenville;  and  an  anonymous 
production,  with  the  signature  of  the  mitre,  urging 
gentleness,  discretion,  and  open  dealing,  with  the  dis- 
contented colonies.  These  papers  were  read  with 
avidity ;  and  could  some  of  them  now  be  found,  they 
would  throw  additional  light  on  the  political  hypocrisy 
of  the  chief  justice. 

The  last-opened  letter  completely  arrested  his  atten- 
tion.    It  was  as  follows  : 

"  Honored  Sir  : 

"  A  friend  of  mine,  who  has  lately  returned  to  Eng- 
land, accidentally  mentioned  meeting  Miss  Fitzherbert 
at  your  house.  May  I  ask  who  this  Miss  Fitzherbert 
is  ?  I  have  been  in  my  native  country  but  a  short  time, 
—  I  am  a  bachelor,  —  and  my  health  is  exceedingly  pre- 
carious. It  is  therefore  important  that  I  should  know 
her  history  and  connections  immediately. 

"  Copley  is  now  in  New  England,  and  I  should  like 
to  have  him  take  her  picture  for  me.  I  will  pay  all 
expenses,  whether  the  event  be  as  I  hope,  or  not.     Omit 


THE    REBELS.  19 

no  particulars  concerning  her  father,  and  have  all  the 
documents  well  authenticated. 

"  I  am  your  obedient  and  humble  ser^-ant, 

"  Edxund  Fitzherbert." 

A  long  conference  between  the  governor,  Miss  Sand- 
ford,  and  Lucretia,  terminated  in  sending  a  note  to 
Doctor  Byles,  requesting  his  attendance,  as  soon  as  con- 
venient, to  converse  on  some  particular  business.  A 
servant  was  speedily  despatched  to  Nassau-street,  and 
soon  returned  with  an  answer  that  promised  an  early 
call.  Before  two  hours  had  elapsed,  Lucretia  heard  the 
well-known  sound  of  his  gold-headed  cane,  as  it  struck 
on  the,  stone  steps  of  the  dwelling ;  and  hastened  to  show 
him  into  the  library. 

He  was  a  middle-sized  man,  with  a  large,  closely 
curled  wig,  and  an  expression  of  face  as  strangely  con- 
tradictory as  his  very  singular  character.  There  was  a 
sanctity  about  his  mouth,  evidently  induced  by  long 
habit;  but  nature  peeped  out  at  his  eye  with  unre- 
strained drollery. 

"Wherefore  am  I  summoned?"  said  he,  planting  his 
cane  firmly  on  the  threshold  of  the  door.  "  Has  Jethro 
cut  his  little  finger?  Has  Aunt  Sandford  been  back- 
biting her  neighbors  till  her  double-teeth  ache  ?  Or 
have  the  rebels  more  symptoms  of  the  cholic  ?  " 

"  None  of  these  things  have  befallen  us,"  answered 
the  governor,  smiling;  "I  want  to  consult  you  about 
Lucretia's  affairs." 

"What  affairs  can  she  have,  pray?  No  design  of 
wearing  Hymen's  saffron  robe,  I  trust  ? " 

"  They  say  it  is  a  garment  often  bought,"  observed 


20  THE    REBELS. 

Lucretia;  "and  it  is  money  which  Uncle  Hutchinson 
wishes  to  talk  with  you  about." 

The  governor  placed  the  letter  in  his  hand,  and 
remarked,  "  With  all  join:  contempt  of  wealth,  you 
will  not  wonder  that  its  contents  are  highly  interesting 
to  us." 

"It  is,  indeed,  of  consequence  that  it  should  be  attended 
to,"  said  he  ;  "  but  what  is  to  be  done  ?" 

"  All  the  evidence  that  can  possibly  be  collected  must 
be  immediately  committed  to  paper.  I  have  heard  you 
say,  that  you  saw  Captain  Fitzherbert,  in  your  youth. 
I  believe  you  and  Madam  Sandford  will  be  my  most 
valuable  evidence." 

Now,  ■  to  this  lady,  the  reverend  doctor  had  a  most 
unconquerable  aversion.  Some  said  it  was  because  he 
suspected  her  of  forming  designs  on  his  liberty,  while  he 
was  a  widower.  To  this  charge  she  never  condescended 
to  give  any  other  answer  than,  "  It  would  be  strange  if  I 
should  seek  such  a  punishment,  when  nothing  vv^orse 
than  biles  could  be  found  wherewith  to  afflict  Job." 

Perhaps  it  might  be  this  same  habit  of  paying  him  in 
his  own  coin,  Avhich  had  first  created  a  dislike.  Be  that 
as  it  may,  he  lost  no  opportunity  of  railing  at  her;  and 
when  Lucretia  was  desired  to  call  her,  he  exclaimed, 
"  0  dear  —  that  Miss  Sandford  !  I  have  such  a  phobia 
of  her !  From  morninof  till  nio-ht  she  is  clattering-  about 
the  faults  and  follies  of  her  neighbors;  and  as  for  her 
own  character,  it  is  a  dark  lantern,  —  nobody  sees  the 
bright  side  but  herself." 

Governor  Hutchinson  looked  upon  his  friend  as  a 
privileged  person,  and  took  no  notice  of  these  and  similar 
remarks ;  but  they  were  always  distressing  to  Lucretia, 


THE    REBELS.  21 

and  she  had  just  whispered,  "  I  beg  of  you  not  to  talk  in 
this  way,"  when  Miss  Sandford  entered,  and  wished  him 
good-moniing. 

"  Good-morning-,  ^ladam  Sandford,"  said  the  doctor, 
rising-.  "  Hem  !  Pray,  Governor  Hutchinson,  have  you 
the  Gossip,  or  the  Tatler,  or  the  Busy-body,  in  your 
library  ?  " 

"I  thought  the  last  was  usuall}''  in  Doctor  Byles' 
presence,"  observed  Miss  Sandford,  sweeping  past  him, 
in  great  indignation, 

"A  truce  ^vith  such  contests,"  said  her  brother-in-law. 
"  I  wish  to  ascertain  how  much  both  of  you  know  con- 
cerning Captain  Fitzherbert." 

Doctor  Byles  then  proceeded  to  details  exactly  corre- 
sponding to  the  storj'  we  have  already  told.  "  I  remem- 
ber," said  he,  "  hearing  Captain  Fitzherbert  speak  of  his 
escape  from  Manilla.  He  was  a  proud-spirited  man,  and 
nothing  on  the  earth,  or  beneath  it,  could  compel  him  to 
an  action.  He  used  to  say  he  had  rather  be  a  plough- 
boy  in  America,  than  a  prince  in  the  East  Indies." 

"  I  have  heard  that  remark  of  my  father's  repeated 
several  times,"  said  Lucretia.  - 

"  And,  you  know,  the  lady  with  whom  3'ou  boarded 
after  your  mother's  death  used  to  tell  many  anecdotes 
about  his  Manilla  uncle,"  said  Miss  Sandford.  "  Do 
you  remember  her  accounts  of  his  chocolate-colored 
gown,  the  monkey  that  saw  fit  to  hide  his  wig  in  the 
chimney,  and  the  favorite  old  servant  that  used  to  lie  on 
his  back  and  fiddle  all  day  ? " 

"  All  this  is  nothing  to  the  purpose,"  said  Doctor 
Byles,  sternly.  "  Women  should  ox\\y  speak  when  it  is 
necessar}'." 


22  THE    REBELS. 

"  All  these  trifling  details  will  serve  to  authenticate 
the  story,"  observed  the  governor.  "  Do  you  know 
whether  Captain  Fitzherbert  ever  heard  from  his  rela- 
tions, after  he  left  them  ?  " 

"  I  have  heard  that  he  was  once  taken  ill  with  a  fever, 
and  carried  to  Chelsea  Hospital,"  replied  Lucretia;  "and 
that  his  father  was  one  of  the  visiting  committee,  and 
used  frequently  to  give  him  cordials  with  his  owti  hand ; 
but  time  and  sickness  had  so  changed  my  father,  that  he 
did  not  know  him ;  and  his  pride  would  not  submit  to  an 
avowal,  under  such  circumstances." 

"  That  was  strength  of  nerve,  indeed,"  said  Hutchin- 
son, "  to  meet  a  father  in  a  foreign  land,  and  3^et  remain 
incog.  But,  bless  my  heart!  why  have  none  of  us 
thought  of  Mr.  Townsend  ?  —  he  was  one  of  the  execu- 
tors." 

"  What,  Townsend,  of  Roxbury,  who  lives  in  a  house 
leaking  at  every  pore,  goes  to  bed  before  dark  to  save 
his  candles,  and  wears  a  garment  woven  before  Deu- 
calion's deluge  ? " 

"Just  so.  Doctor  Byles;  and  is  worth  thousands  of 
pounds,  for  all  that,"  replied  the  governor.  "  Lucretia, 
sit  down  and  write  a  note  to  Mr.  Townsend,  requesting 
him  to  come  here ;  and  send  Jethro  \yith  the  carriage." 

"I  love  that  scatter-brained  girl,  in  spite  of  myself," 
said  Doctor  Byles,  as  she  left  the  apartment.  "  Did  you 
notice  the  tears  in  her  eyes,  \vhen  we  talj^ed  of  her 
mother  ?  I  believe  there  was  some  great  villany  about 
her  father's  property." 

"  People  do  say  this  Mr.  Townsend  is  no  better  than' 
he  should  be,"  rejoined  Miss  Sandford. 


THE    REBELS.  23 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  anybody  that  was  ? "  said 
Doctor  Byles. 

"If  1  had,  I  should  have  heard  a  fact  you  will  never 
know  by  experience,"  answered  she. 

"  Surely  you  have  touched  the  doctor's  garments," 
said  her  brother,  laughing. 

"  At  any  event,  wit  made  a  strange  mistake  when  it 
popped  into  her  brain,"  rejoined  her  unwearied  tor- 
mentor. 

Some  more  conversation  followed,  the  particulars  of 
which  were  interesting  only  to  the  parties  concerned ; 
and  the  governor  was  busy  in  committing  the  various 
facts  to  paper,  when  Jethro  arrived  with  Mr.  Townsend. 
He  was  an  old  man,  with  a  black  cap  pulled  closely  over 
his  shagg}"  eye-brows,  a  wrinkled  face,  a  thread-bare 
coat,  and  patched  small-clothes,  tied  above  the  knee  with 
leathern  strings. 

The  rising  smile  was  checked  by  the  politeness  of  the 
chief  justice,  who  handed  him  a  chair,  and  after  a  few 
general  inquiries,  spoke  of  the  business  for  which  he  had 
summoned  him. 

lEivery  one  noticed  his  look  of  deadly  paleness,  when 
the  name  of  Fitzherbert  was  mentioned. 

"  I  am  an  old  man,"  said  he,  in  the  querulous  tones  of 
extreme  age,  "  and  a  poor  one.  That  was  a  trouble- 
some business.  Papers  were  lost ;  and  the  world  blamed 
me,  God  knows,  without  reason."  • 

"  Old  man,  swear  not  at  all  I "  exclaimed  Doctor  Byles, 
with  a  thundering  voice. 

The  miser  looked  terrified. 

"  It  is  hard  to  perplex  an  old  man  with  this  business, 
when  he  is  just  on  the  verge  of  the  grave,"  said  he.     "  I 


24  THE    REBELS. 

am  poor,  —  too  poor  to  be  wearing  and  tearing  my  clothes 
in  riding  about  from  one  end  of  the  town  to  the  other ; 
and  I  have  been  despit  sick,  for  years  back.  I  have  a 
power  of  complaints  on  me  now." 

"  An  expansion  of  the  heart  is  one  disorder  you  have 
contracted,  is  it  not  ?  "  inquired  Doctor  Byles. 

"  I  have  had  almost  all  kinds  of  sickness,  in  my  day," 
replied  the  old  man,  without  noticing  the  ridicule  of  the 
remark;  "but  then,  you  know,  doctors  cost  a  mint  of 
money." 

That  craving  for  sympathy  which  leads  us  all  to  dwell 
more  or  less  on  our  own  miseries  would  have  induced 
Mr.  Townsend  to  prolong  this  topic  to  a  painful  length, 
had  not  Governor  Hutchinson  at  once  arrested  him  by 
direct  questions  concerning  the  Fitzherbert  estate.  On 
this  subject  he  was  less  garrulous.  A  trembling  hesita- 
tion, which  might  proceed  either  from  conscious  guilt,  or 
from  an  incapacity  for  business,  was  very  discernible. 
His  story  was  but  a  repetition  of  the  other,  excepting 
that  he  remembered  having  seen  the  death  of  Mr.  Ed- 
mund Fitzherbert,  of  Manilla,  in  the  London  Chronicle. 
Having  given  his  testimony,  he  expressed  a  wish  to 
oblige  the  gentlemen  in  anything  that  would  not  prove 
expensive,  and  signified  his  desire  to  depart. 
!  That  there  had  been  some  mistake  concerning  the 
death  of  the  East  India  uncle,  and  that  Lucretia  would 
be  heiress  to  his  immense  wealth,  was  the  impression  of 
all  her  friends. 

The  governor  congratulated  her  on  her  prospects,  but 
at  the  same  time  reminded  her  of  their  extreme  uncer- 
tainty, and  exhorted  her  to  keep  the  whole  affair  secret, 


THE    REBELS.  25 

for  the  present,  since,  in  case  of  failure,  it  would  be 
exceedingly  unpleasant  to  be  questioned  concerning  it. 

Miss  Sandford  did  not  attempt  to  conceal  her  joy. 
"  Lucretia  will  be  the  richest  woman  in  New  England  I " 
said  she ;  "  a  match  for  the  greatest  man  in  the  col- 
onies." 

"  Mulier  ad  unguern,''''  exclaimed  Doctor  Byles;  "ideas 
always  saffron-colored.  It  would  be  well  if  you  thought 
as  much  of  some  other  flames,  as  you  do  of  HjTnen's 
torch." 

"  In  my  opinion,  wrath  and  eternal  fire  are  too  much 
talked  of,  by  some  ministers,"  rejoined  the  maiden. 

"  No  doubt  you  think  so,"  replied  he  ;  "  and  when  one 
seems  so  anxious  that  a  place  should  be  represented 
comfortable,  one  cannot  but  have  a  shrewd  suspicion  they 
expect  to  go  there." 

"  I  know  of  no  one  so  fit  to  be  master  of  ceremonies 
as  yourself,"  retorted  she. 

""  A  young  distiller  has  moved  into  your  neighborhood, 
Governor  Hutchinson,"  said  the  doctor;  "and  the  first 
business  I  wish  you  to  give  him  is  to  still  your  sister's 
tons^ue." 

"A  heavy  cannonade,  upon  my  word,"  said  the 
laughing  Lucretia;  "but,  after  all,  Doctor  Byles,  none 
of  my  friends  will  be  more  glad  of  my  good  fortune  than 
yourself. " 

"  Very  true,  my  good  girl,"  said  he,  affectionately 
taking  her  hand ;  "  but  it  will  be  that  you  have  it  in 
your  power  to  be  useful  —  not  to  get  a  husband." 

"  Certainly  not,"  replied  Lucretia.     "  I  am  sure  — " 

"  Have  a  care,"  intcrnipted  the  doctor,  "  else  I  shall 
3 


26  THE    REBELS. 

be  tempted  to  say,  *  Faith,  I  '11  believe  a  woman,  when  I 
have  nothing  else  to  do.'  " 

Lucretia  blushed,  —  for  at  that  moment  she  was  actu- 
ally conjecturing  whether  her  thousands  could  make 
Somerville  forget  that  she  was  less  beautiful  than  Grace 
Osborne. 


CHAPTER    III. 

The  spirit  of  the  day  is  still  awake, 
And  spreads  itself,  and  shall  not  sleep  again  ; 
But  through  the  idle  mesh  of  power  shall  break, 
Like  billows  o'er  the  Asian  monarch's  chain. 

Bnjartt. 

The  political  principles  of  Frederic  Somerville  were 
rather  the  result  of  habit  and  education,  than  of  per- 
sonal character.  He  was  fresh  from  the  classic  schools  of 
Greece  and  Rome,  and  his  own  spirit  was  as  free  as  the 
untamed  courser  of  the  desert ;  but  he  had  read  gorgeous 
descriptions  of  feudal  power  —  he  had  gazed  on  old  bar- 
onial castles,  the  massive  grandeur  of  the  Gothic,  and 
the  lighter  and  more  graceful  outline  of  Saxon  archi- 
tecture, till  his  imagination  was  wedded  to  pompous 
pageantr}-,  and  his  heart  bowed  down  before  the  crown, 
the  coronet,  and  the  mitre. 

But  he  was  enthusiastic,  ardent,  and  capricious ;  and 
those  who  knew  him  well  would  have  felt  no  surprise  at 
seeing  him  as  valiant  a  champion  for  the  rights  of  man 
as  he  now  was  for  the  supremacy  of  his  king. 

Toward  the  eveningf  of  the  26th  of  Aucmst,  he  was 
sitting  in  one  of  the  alcoves  which  looked  out  upon  the 
garden,  talking  with  his  uncle  concerning  the  arrival  of 
stamped  paper,  when  a  small  arrow  whizzed  between 
them,  and  fastened  in  the  canvass  hangings  of  the  room. 
Both  started,  and  looked  out  at  the  window. 


28  THE    REBELS. 

A  lad,  with  cross-bow  and  quiver,  was  just  scaling  the 
fence ;  but  he  was  soon  out  of  the  reach  of  pursuit. 

To  the  arrow  was  fastened  a  slip  of  paper,  with  these 
words : 

"  Lieutenant  Governor,  Member  of  the  Council,  Com- 
mander of  the  Castle,  Judge  of  Probate,  and  Chief  Justice 
of  the  Supreme  Court ! — You  are  hereby  commanded  to 
appear  under  the  Liberty-tree,  within  one  hour,  to  plight 
your  faith,  that  you  will  use  no  more  influence  against 

an  injured  and  an  exasperated  people. 

"  Nemo." 

The  governor's  face  flushed  to  the  very  temples. 

"  Again  reproached  with  the  multiplicity  of  my  offices," 
said  he ;  "  as  if  talents  and  education  ought  not  to  com- 
mand fortune  ! " 

"  Where  is  this  tree,  of  which  I  have  heard  so  much  ?  " 
inquired  his  nephew.  "  It  seems  these  people  are  deter- 
mined that  even  their  timber  shall  be  implicated  in 
rebellion." 

"  It  is  that  large  elm  opposite  Frog-lane ,=^  where  the 
mob  dared  to  suspend  their  insulting  effigies  on  the  four- 
teenth of  this  month,"  he  replied. 

"  And  what  notice  shall  you  take  of  this  insulting 
epistle?" 

"  Such  notice  as  King  George's  representative  should 
take  of  the  insolence  of  his  subjects.  I  will  never  com- 
promise with  their  vengeance,  nor  govern  them  by 
stratagem." 

"  Spoken  like  Governor  Hutchinson! "  exclaimed  Som- 
erville.     He  paused  a  moment,  and  looked  anxiously  into 

*  Where  Boylston  Market  now  stands. 


THE    REBELS.  29 

the  Street  before  he  added,  "  Had  I  not  better  go  to  the 
tree,  and  watch  their  proceedings  ?  " 

"  As  you  please,  sir.  They  will  make  no  difference 
in  my  arrangements,  however.  They  will  hardly  dare 
to  touch  my  property ;  and  if  they  do  forget  so  far  as  to 
pull  down  some  of  my  fences,  they  will  be  compelled  to 
pay  a  pound  for  ever}^  penny  1  lose." 

With  high  ideas  of  English  power,  and  with  very 
gross  ignorance  of  the  colonial  character,  Somerville  re- 
garded the  resistance  of  America  as  the  discontented 
murmuring  of  a  wayward  child ;  and  as  he  now  passed 
through  the  principal  streets  of  Boston,  he  was  absolute- 
ly astonished  at  the  intense  eagerness  and  portentous 
activity  of  the  crowd. 

There  was  something  in  the  hurried  step  of  those  who 
were  walking  to  and  fro,  and  in  the  earnest  manner  of 
those  collected  in  groups,  that  seemed  like  the  stormy 
movements  of  the  ocean,  as  it  rises,  wave  after  wave, 
and  lashes  itself  to  fuiy. 

"  There  is  the  man  that  daddy  calls  the  Breetish  tell- 
tale," said  a  sturdy  little  fellow,  who  was  helping  his 
companion  fly  a  kite. 

"  By  George,  say  that  again,  if  you  dare ! "  retorted  the 
son  of  a  stanch  tory,  as  he  clenched  his  fist,  and,  at  one 
blow,  prostrated  him  on  the  ground. 

"  I  'm  up  again  !  "  exclaimed  the  resolute  little  chap, 
springing  on  his  feet,  and  rubbing  his  ears. 

"  Let  those  who  throw  the  infant  Hercules  beware  his 
rising!"  said  a  dark-eyed  young  man,  whose  flushed 
cheek  and  sparkling  eye  betrayed  the  keen  interest  he 
took  in  the  scene. 

Those  who  are  the  most  enthusiastic  in  their  opmions, 
3^ 


30  THE    REBELS. 

and  the  most  impetuous  in  their  conduct,  are  peculiarly 
subject  to  violent  reaction ;  and  had  Somerville  at  that 
moment  been  alone  in  the  world,  without  friends  to 
sway  or  interest  to  guide  him,  he  would  have  rebounded 
from  his  long-cherished  aristocracy,  to  the  extreme  of 
political  freedom. 

Desperate  and  wicked  as  he  had  been  accustomed  to 
think  the  cause,  he  could  not  but  admire  the  fearless 
energy  with  which  it  was  maintained;  and  with  more 
respect  than  he  had  ever  before  felt  for  the  rebels,  he 
passed  along  to  the  place  where  a  meeting  with  his 
uncle  had  been  appointed.  There  were  clusters  of 
people  within  sight;  but  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the 
tree  was  perfectly  quiet. 

A  taU,  slender  man  passed  SomerviUe,  with  the  slow 
and  irresolute  step  of  one  who  has  no  other  object,  in 
walking,  than  to  while  away  a  tedious  interval.  He 
looked  at  his  watch  anxiously,  and  was  about  to  retrace 
the  path  he  had  just  taken,  when  the  young  Englishman 
arrested  his  attention.  For  a  moment  he  seemed  to 
hesitate  whether  to  speak,  or  not,  —  then  suddenly 
plunged  into  a  narrow  lane,  the  darkness  of  which  soon 
concealed  him  from  view. 

Willing  to  ascertain  more  fully  the  state  of  public 
feeling,  Somerville  entered  the  White  Horse  tavern,  and, 
carelessly  glancing  over  the  London  Chronicle,  kept  a 
watchful  eye  on  those  who  entered  and  departed. 

Several  countrymen  surrounded  a  gentleman  in  one 
corner  of  the  room,  who  was  saying  to  them,  "  Be  firm. 
Eesist  unto  death;  but,"  added  he,  slowly  and  im- 
pressively lowering  his  hand,  "be  moderate  —  be  pru- 
dent." 


THE    REBELS.  31 

"  Spoken  like  Samuel  Adams !  "  said  a  young  man, 
who  had  that  moment  entered.  Somerville  immediately 
recognized  the  figure  that  he  had  seen  passing  and 
repassing  the  Liberty-tree,  and  the  voice  that  had  spoken 
of  the  rising  Hercules. 

"Has  he  come,  Doctor  Willard?"  inquired  a  dozen 
voices. 

J      "  The  person  I  sought  is  not  yet  where  we  expect 
him,"  answered  he. 

There  was  a  long  pause. 

"  Do  you  reaUy  think,  after  all  Governor  Hutchinson 
has  promised  us,  that  he  has  dared  to  WTite  to  England, 
advising  them  not  to  repeal  this  duty  ? "  asked  one  of 
the  countrymen. 

"  It  seems  to  be  proved,  beyond  all  doubt,"  replied 
Willard. 

"  Let  him  look  to  't,  then,"  said  an  old  man,  taking 
out  a  huge  quid  of  tobacco,  and  shaking  his  head  most 
significantly. 

"  And  do  you  think,  sir,  this  duty  never  wiU  be 
pealed  ?  "  inquired  a  ruddy-faced  farmer. 

"  Franklin  is  making  great  exertions  for  us,"  rejoined 
Adams ;  "  but  the  king  is  ignorant  of  the  real  state  of 
his  colonies,  the  ministry  are  obstinate,  and  their  friends 
here  are  wicked  and  selfish.     We  have  much  to  fear." 

The  farmer  made  a  nod  of  defiance,  similar  to  those 
which  a  small  boy  ventures,  when  at  a  safe  distance,  to 
direct  toward  the  champion  who  has  just  thrown  him. 

"  My  friends,"  said  Adams,  "  remember  that  nothing 
is  to  be  gained  by  violence ;  much  by  calm  and  dignified 
firmness.     Let  not  the  outrages  of  the  14th  be  reacted." 


32  THE    REBELS. 

"  Do  you  fear  any  open  resistance  ? "  asked  Somer- 
ville,  stepping  forward. 

The  two  gentlemen  looked  anxiously  at  each  other, 
for  his  entrance  had  been  unnoticed  by  all  who  stood  in 
that  corner  of  the  room ;  and  Adams  replied, 

"  I  trust  there  will  be  no  assault  upon  individual 
property,  sir;  but  there  is  no  answering  for  the  move- 
ments of  a  populace,  goaded  and  trampled  on  as  we 
have  been." 

"  I  need  not  remind  you  of  English  power,"  rejoined 
Somervdlle ;  "  and  what  will  you  do,  if  they  continue  to 
resolve  that  the  duty  shall  be  paid  ?  " 

"  In  such  a  case,  hearts  and  hands  will  not  be  want- 
ing," replied  Willard.  "  To  the  nephew  of  Governor 
Hutchinson,  I  shall  say  no  more.     Good-evening,  sir." 

"  Ye  're  di.  friend  to  your  country,  and  I  like  ye  for  it," 
said  the  farmer.  "  But  I  '11  not  stay  here,  nuther  ;  for 
I  guess  I  should  give  too  much  of  my  mind  to  that 
Brcetish  fellow." 

AVith  an  air  of  evident  vexation,  Somerville  followed 
them  to  the  street,  and  the  traces  of  recent  indignation 
were  very  conspicuous  on  his  ingenuous  countenance, 
when  he  entered  his  uncle's  library.  This  room  con- 
tained the  finest  collection  of  book?  then  in  the  colo- 
nies ;  and  bore  obvious  marks  of  the  scholar,  the 
antiquarian,  and  the  man  of  taste.  It  was  hung  with 
canvass  tapestr^^  on  which  was  blazoned  the  coronation 
of  George  II.,  here  and  there  interspersed  with  the  royal 
arms.  The  portraits  of  Anne  and  the  two  Georges  hung 
in  massive  frames  of  antique  splendor,  and  the  crowded 
shelves  were  surmounted  with  busts  of  the  house  of 
Stuart.      A  table  of  polished   black  oak  stood  in  the 


THE    REBELS.  33 

centre,  at  which  were  seated  the  governor  and  his 
friend  Doctor  Bvles. 

"  You  are  welcome,  sir  knight  of  the  dolorous  visage," 
said  the  facetious  clerg}TTian.  "  Your  uncle  and  I  have 
been  two  hours  endeavoring  to  decipher  the  black-letter 
manuscript  you  brought  us ;  but  like  the  woful  mes- 
sengers that  drove  poor  Job  to  desperation,  each  suc- 
ceeding hour  has  brought  some  one,  with  rueful  face  and 
direful  tone,  to  tell  us  that  the  rebels  are  certainly  about 
to  commit  some  dreadful  outrage,  and  that  we  had  better 
prepare  for  the  worst." 

"  I  come  on  the  same  mournful  errand,"  replied 
Somen'ille,  imitating  the  mock  solemnity  of  his  manner. 
*'  But,  to  speak  seriously,  uncle,  I  have  seen  instances 
of  fearless  audacity  to-day,  which  leave  no  room  to  doubt 
of  the  infuriated  state  of  the  populace." 

"  111  news  are  swallow-winged ;  but  what  is  good  walks 
on  crutches,"  said  Doctor  Byles.  "  These  discontented 
^^Tetches  dare  not  insult  one  of  his  majesty's  officers." 

Somerv'ille  repeated,  very  minutely,  all  he  had  heard 
and  seen,  during  his  absence. 

"  AVhy  did  you  not  treat  the  insolent  rebels  in  the 
manner  they  deserved  ? "  inquired  Governor  Hutchinson. 

"  It  was  with  difficult}^  that  I  did  refrain,  in  one  in- 
stance," repHed  he ;  "  but  it  is  well  I  did ;  for  you 
know  how  much  mischief  Oliver's  passionate  friends 
made,  on  a  similar  occasion.  After  all,  there  is  a  touch 
of  spirit  in  this  thing.  I  had  rather  see  zeal  in  a  bad 
cause,  than  coldness  in  a  good  one.  The  mantle  of  true 
English  feeling  must  have  descended  on  these  people, 
as  they  left  our  shores." 

"I  confess, young  man,Isee  no  similarity  to  English — " 


34  THE    REBELS. 

A  confused  noise  in  the  distance  here  interrupted  the 
conversation.  For  a  few  moments  they  listened,  with  a 
kind  of  stupefaction ;  and  this  gradually  increased  to  a 
bewildered  but  intense  fear  of  approaching  danger,  as 
the  sounds  of  drum  and  fife,  mingled  with  the  loud 
shouts  of  men  and  boys,  became  terribly  distinct. 

"  Lucretia  is  in  the  cupola,"  said  the  governor,  mo- 
tioning to  his  nephew. 

"  My  private  papers  are  in  that  desk.  Doctor  Byles," 
added  he.  "  They  may  be  safer  about  your  person  than 
mine.  Get  them  into  the  hands  of  Mr.  Osborne  as  soon 
as  possible." 

He  .was  making  other  brief  arrangements  with  a 
trembling  eagerness  that  defeated  his  haste,  when  a 
loud  crash  of  falling  glass  announced  that  the  multitude 
had  commenced  the  work  of  destruction. 

Lucretia's  voice  was  heard  on  the  stairs,  as  she 
screamed,  "  Aunt !  aunt !  "  in  an  agony  of  terror. 

Another  tremendous  wreck  succeeded,  as  she  burst 
into  the  library. 

"  O,  my  God !  where  is  Aunt  Sandford  ? "  she  ex- 
claimed. "  Dear  uncle,  save  yourself!  Run,  run  to 
Mr.  Osborne's ! " 

The  united  voices  of  Somerville  and  Miss  Sandford 
were  now  heard,  calling,  "  This  way,  Lucretia,  this 
waj^" 

With  an  involuntary  wish  to  save  something,  she 
caught  two  rolls  of  manuscripts,  lying  on  the  table,  and 
followed  their  direction.-^ 

*  One  of  these  rolls  was  the  original  manuscript  of  Hubbard's  His- 
tory. The  other  has  long  been  before  the  public,  under  the  title  of 
Hutchinson's  History  of  Massachusetts. 


THE    REBELS.  36 

Quicker  than  it  can  be  said,  the  whole  family  were 
cautiously  stealing  through  the  back  yard,  on  their  way 
to  Mr.  Osborne's. 

As  they  came  into  the  street  in  rear  of  the  house, 
bottles  of  champagne,  and  barrels  of  claret,  brought 
from  the  governor's  own  cellar,  were  furiously  broken  by 
the  mob,  who  were  drinking  most  immoderately. 

"  There  goes  sting}^  Tommy !  "  cried  one. 

"  And  Mather,  the  droll !  "  shouted  another. 

This  recognition  was  followed  by  hats-full  of  wine 
thrown  in  their  faces,  with  loud  cries  of  "  Don't  it  go  to 
your  heart,  stingy  Tom  ? " 

\Yith  difficulty  they  forced  their  way  a  few  steps 
further,  and  came  in  view  of  a  large  effig}',  mounted  on 
a  car,  round  which  the  multitude  were  brandishino-  their 
torches,  exclaiming,  while  hundreds  of  hats  waved  in 
dizz}'  circles  through  the  air,  "  Liberty,  or  death !  No 
stamps  !     Hurra  I  hurra  !  hurra  !  " 

"  Do\^'n  w*ith  the  t}T^nt !  dovm  with  the  h^-pocrite  I  " 
shouted  the  mob,  as  they  formed  a  phalanx  round  the 
governor. 

The  tumult  increased.  At  that  moment,  a  tall,  ath- 
letic man  pressed  eagerly  toward  the  group. 

"  In  the  name  of  Heaven,  let  not  a  hair  of  their  heads 
be  injured,"  said  he.  "  Is  it  come  to  this,  in  New- 
England,  that  the  presence  of  ladies  is  no  safeguard 
against  rudeness  ? " 

"  You  are  one  of  his  nephews,  or  parasite  officers," 
muttered  a  by-stander. 

The  arm  of  Sornerville  was  raised,  in  the  forgetful- 
ness  of  his  anger,  but  was  stayed   by  Doctor    Byles. 


36  THE   REBELS. 

"  Forgive  and  despise  them,"  said  he ;  "  they  are  not 
worthy  of  an  Englishman's  chastisement. 

"  Look  me  in  the  face,  John,"  said  the  gentleman 
who  came  to  their  rescue.  He  raised  his  slouched  hat 
as  he  spoke,  and  displayed  the  resolute  features  of 
Samuel  Adams,  as  he  added,  "  Am  I  not  a  friend  to  the 
people  ?  But  this  is  licentiousness,  not  liberty.  This  is 
no  way  to  redress  our  wrongs." 

"  But  it  is  the  way  to  revenge  them,"  shouted  an 
unkno\\Ti  voice. 

"  Let  Governor  Hutchinson  and  his  household  pass  !  " 
said  Adams,  in  a  voice  of  thunder.  "  I  will  be  his  guard  ; 
and  he  that  stops  me  does  it  at  his  peril." 

The  multitude,  awed  by  the  boldness  of  his  language, 
fell  back ;  the  confusion  subsided  for  a  moment ;  and  the 
generous  American  soon  conducted  the  family  to  more 
quiet  scenes. 

But  the  spirit  of  riot  again  stormed ;  and  the  heads 
of  men  seemed  like  the  waves  of  the  ocean,  rising, 
swelling,  rushing  onward. 

The  noise  of  shattered  glass  and  falling  timber  was 
mingled  with  horrid  imprecations,  in  the  midst  of  which, 
down  fell  the  magnificent  cupola,  crushed  to  a  thousand 
atoms. 

"  Fire  the  house,  boys  !  fire  the  house  !  "  shouted  one. 

The  crowd,  whom  contagious  excitement  and  brutal 
intoxication  had  maddened  into  fury,  prepared  to  obey. 

For  an  instant,  fire-brands  and  torches  were  seen 
gleaming  in  the  air;  but  several  voices  were  heard 
earnestly  expostulating  with  them,  —  and,  whoever  they 
were,  they  had  power  to  arrest  the  storm  in  the  midst 
of  its  uproar. 


THE    REBELS.  37 

The  noise  gradually  subsided.  The  mob  scattered 
off  in  detached  companies ;  and,  before  midnight,  the 
moon  looked  calmly  dowTi  on  the  <]^uiet  and  deserted 
mansion  of  Governor  Hutchinson.  Frasrments  of  manu- 
scripts,  tattered  books,  dilapidated  furniture,  and  broken 
windows,  proclaimed  that  the  torrent  of  liberty,  which 
had  been  so  long  fearfully  swelling,  had  overflowed  its 
banks,  and  left  terror  and  desolation  in  its  course. 

In  the  mean  time,  a  rapid  walk  had  brought  the 
wanderers  to  the  house  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Osborne. 
There  were  brief  salutations,  ean^er  inquiries,  and  cor- 
dial  welcomes.  Lucretia,  who  had  not  spoken  one  word 
during  the  perilous  scene,  now  clasped  her  arms  around 
Grace,  and  wept;  Miss  Sandford  threw  herself  into  a 
chair,  and  rocked  and  sobl:)ed  violently ;  while  I\Ir. 
Osborne,  forgetting  how  much  he  disliked  the  avarice 
and  political  deception  of  Hutchinson,  grasped  his  hand 
most  jo^-fully. 

There  is  a  certain  point,  bej^ond  which,  injuries  cease 
to  exasperate,  and  their  influence  softens  and  subdues 
the  heart. 

From  the  chamber  window,  the  governor  watched 
the  movements  of  the  rabble ;  —  saw  crow-bars  and  axes 
busy  on  the  roof  of  his  magnificent  dwelling,  and  wit- 
nessed the  cupola,  as  it  fell,  splintering  into  atoms. 

"Would  to  Heaven  it  would  crush  the  unfeeling 
wretches  !  "  exclauTied  Somerville. 

"  Say  not  so,  my  nephew,"  rejoined  the  governor. 
*'  Rather  praj^  that  they  may  live  to  repent  of  their 
conduct." 

Doctor  Byles  evinced  the  same  spirit.  He  spoke  of 
the   rash    proceedings   v/ith  mildness  very  unusual   io 

4 


38  THE    REBELS. 

him ;  and  when  they  returned  to  the  parlor,  he  said, 
"  With  your  leave,  brother  Osborne,  we  will  pray  that 
the  sins  of  this  night  may  be  forgiven." 

At  this  moment,  a  shrill  whistle  was  heard;  and  it 
was  immediately  answered  from  a  distance. 

Grace  cast  a  look  of  utter  agony  at  Lucretia,  who,  pale 
as  death,  exclaimed, 

"  O,  that  dreadful  sound !     It  is  the  mob-whistle  I"  ^ 

"  It  is  a  sound  terribly  familiar  to  our  ears,  indeed," 
said  Hutchinson.  "My  good  friend,  our  presence  en- 
dangers you.     We  must  depart." 

"  Not  while  there  is  anything  to  fear,"  rejoined  Os- 
borne, in  a  decided  tone.  "  If  I  cannot  avert  the  storm, 
its  violence  shall  fall  on  me." 

"  Leave  this  house,  I  beseech  you,  leave  this  house  !  " 
exclaimed  Doctor  Willard,  abruptly  entering  from  a  side 
door.  "  There  is  no  safety  for  you  here ;  indeed,  there 
is  not." 

"  Where  can  I  go  ? "  asked  the  governor,  in  an  agi- 
tated voice. 

"  Remain  with  me,"  said  Mr.  Osborne,  taking  firm 
hold  of  his  arm.  "  My  young  friend,  you  could  not 
suppose  I  would  desert  him  at  this  moment." 

Faces  were  now  seen  at  the  window,  and  the  awful 
sounds  of  an  infuriated  multitude  were  again  heard. 
Doctor  Willard  cast  a  look  of  intense  anxiety  towards 
Grace,  which  spoke  more  than  volumes. 

"  Do  5'ou,  young  gentleman,  remain  with  the  ladies. 
If  worst  comes  to  woi-st,  convey  them  to  Doctor  May- 
hew's.  I,  myself,  will  speak  to  these  people,"  said  Mr. 
Osborne. 

*This  sound  was  so  peculiar,  that  the  inhabitants  of  Boston  recog- 
nized it  instantly. 


THE    REBELS.  39 

The  venerable  man  stepped  forth  alone ;  and  as  he 
stood  and  gazed  on  the  crov.'d,  the  clamor  of  voices 
ceased. 

His  appearance  was,  indeed,  wonderfully  impressive. 
His  blue  silk  night-go\\Ti  and  slippers,  —  the  white  hair, 
parted  in  the  middle  of  his  forehead,  and  falling  negli- 
gently over  his  shoulders, — gave  him  the  air  of  an  evan- 
gelist of  olden  time.  The  moon  shone  full  upon  him,  and 
displayed  a  countenance  in  which  intellect  and  affection 
were  singularly  blended.  The  celestial  light  beaming 
from  his  eye  announced  that  he  lived  above  the  world ; 
but  the  sweet  smile  that  hovered  round  his  lips  pro- 
claimed how  much  he  loved  those  who  still  enjoyed  it. 

"  "What  would  3'ou  have,  my  friends  ?  "  said  he. 

The  mildness  of  his  tones  formed  a  strange  contrast 
to  their  own  tumultuous  cries ;  and,  awed  into  shame, 
they  continued  silent. 

At  length,  some  one  said,  "  Governor  Hutchinson  is 
in  your  house,  and  he  must  leave  it." 

'•  Not  while  I  have  a  roof  to  shelter  him,"  rejoined  the 
intrepid  clergyman. 

"  Be  cautious,  my  dear  sir,"  whispered  a  man  in  dis- 
guise, who  stood  near  the  door.  "  I  fear  your  political 
principles  will  not  prove  a  sufficient  shield."  * 

"  ]\Iv  countrA'men,"  said  the  old  man,  in  a  voice  ex- 
tremely  agitated,  "  how  well  I  love  America,  and  how 
much  1  have  exerted  myself  for  her  rights,  you  all  know. 
I  now  tell  you,  once  for  all,  that  the  ruins  of  this  house 
shall  fall  upon  my  head,  before  I  give  up  one  who  has 
sought  it  for  shelter.  I  have  watched  for  your  liberties, 
wept  for  your  sins,  and  prayed  for  your  advancement  in 
hx)liness-     My  children,  will  you,  can  you,  sacrifice  me 


40  THE   REBELS. 

to  your  vengeance  ? "  Then,  raising  his  clasped  hands 
and  streaming  eyes  to  heaven,  he  added,  "Father  of 
mercies,  keep  them  from  further  sin !  " 

The  humbled  and  conscience-stricken  multitude  looked 
upon  him  with  veneration.  Blessings,  and  even  sobs, 
were  audible. 

One  after  another  came  up,  bowed  before  him,  and 
passed  quietly  down  the  street.  So  much  influence  has 
genuine  piety  over  the  unprincipled,  in  their  wildest 
moods. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

Then  Otis  rose,  and,  great  in  patriot  fame, 
To  listening  crowds  resistance  dared  proclaim. 
From  men  like  Otis,  independence  grew ; 
From  such  beginnings  empire  rose  to  view. 

Hon.  Thomas  Datces. 

On  the  following  day,  the  Court  of  Assizes  and  the 
Supreme  Court  met  in  the  Council  Chamber.  Four  of 
the  judges  wore  "voluminous  wigs,  broad  bands,  and 
robes  of  scarlet  cloth."  The  chief  justice  alone  entered 
without  the  customary  badges  of  his  profession.  A  plain 
suit  of  black,  which  he  had  worn  on  the  preceding 
night,  was  all  that  had  been  saved  from  the  enraged 
populace. 

A  murmur  of  indignation  ran  through  the  court  when 
he  appeared ;  and  it  was  very  evident  that  the  citizens 
of  Boston  deeply  regretted  and  severely  discountenanced 
the  shameless  outrages  they  had  been  compelled  to 
witness.  Nothing  was  now  heard  of  the  political  bitter- 
ness and  personal  abuse  that  had,  of  late,  mingled  too 
frequently  with  their  public  debates ;  on  the  contrary, 
respectful  and  conciliating  attention  marked  the  whole 
assembly; — and  when  the  court  were  about  to  adjourn, 
Samuel  Adams  arose,  and  requested  all  the  lovers  of 
genuine  freedom  to  meet  at  Faneuil  Hall,  to  pass  some 
resolves  concerning  the  indemnification  of  Hutchinson's 
losses,  and  to  take  proper  measures  to  prevent  such 
excesses  in  future. 

4* 


42  THE    REBELS. 

A  crowded  meeting  accordingly  took  place.  Without 
one  dissenting  voice,  they  passed  resolutions  to  patrol 
the  streets  from  sunset  to  sunrise,  and  to  petition  the 
Legislature  that  the  ruined  mansion  of  the  chief  justice 
should  be  repaired  at  the  expense  of  the  state. 

The  friends  of  government  pretended  to  look  on  all 
this  as  the  artful  manceu^Tes  of  men  anxious  to  ward  off 
the  effects  of  their  crime.  To  further  their  tyrannical 
design  of  obtaining  military  assistance  from  England, 
the  two  governors  chose  to  represent  the  affair  as  the 
spontaneous  movement  of  the  whole  town,  suggested  and 
aided  by  its  best  and  most  influential  citizens ;  and  one 
of  Bernard's  friends,  who  had  accompanied  Somen-ille  to 
the  hall,  was  impolitic  enough  to  say  aloud,  "  This  is  a 
sheer  pretence.  The  Legislature  approve  of  the  transac- 
tion ;  and  v/ould  publicly  vindicate  it,  if  they  dared'.  All 
this  only  serves  to  show  that  they  have  not  spirit  enough 
to  carry  them  through." 

With  a  face  of  flame,  James  Otis  arose  and  answered  : 
"  You  assert  what  no  honest  man  can  believe,  sir !  A 
policy  as  wicked  as  it  is  shallow  can  alone  induce  our 
enemies  to  give  currency  to  such  an  opinion.  Affect  a 
disbelief,  if  you  please ;  but  you  well  know  that  all  the 
nerve  and  sinew  of  the  community  were  exerted  to  stem 
the  torrent  of  popular  furj",  dm'ing  the  whole  of  the  last 
fearful  night. 

"  1  do  not  oppose  the  resolutions  in  favor  of  Governor 
Hutchinson.  No  one  more  sincerely  regrets  the  insults 
offered  his  person,  and  the  injurj^  done  to  his  property ; 
but  1  cannot  restrain  my  indignation,  when  I  hear  the 
public  virtue,  that  so  promptly  recoils  from  undue  vio- 
lence, stigmatized  as  time-serving  cowardice.     Some  will 


THE    REBELS.  43 

mistake  my  zeal  for  personal  resentment ;  but  those  who 
understand  me  well  will  hear,  in  my  voice,  the  thunder- 
ing echo  of  a  free  people,  who  cannot  be  silenced,  and 
who  will  not  be  mocked. 

"  Let  him  who  dares  to  say  we  have  not  spirit  suffi- 
cient to  resist  oppression  look  at  the  fallen  cupola,  the 
prostrate  pillars,  the  tattered  hangings,  and  the  ruined 
walls,  in  Friezel-court ! 

"  God  forbid  that  I  should  thus  recapitulate  in  order  to 
add  insult  to  outrage.  I  merely  wish  to  prove,  that  the 
spirit  which  cannot  be  controlled  by  friends  will  never 
be  overcome  by  enemies. 

"  England  may  as  well  dam  up  the  waters  of  the 
Nile  with  bulrushes,  as  to  fetter  the  step  of  Freedom, 
more  proud  and  firai,  in  this  youthful  land,  than  where 
she  treads  the  sequestered  glens  of  Scotland,  or  couches 
herself  among  the  magnificent  mountains  of  Switzerland. 

"  Arbitrary  principles,  like  those  against  which  we  now 
contend,  have  cost  one  King  of  England  his  life,  another 
his  crov.-n,  —  and  they  may  yet  cost  a  third  his  most 
flourishing  colonies. 

"  We  are  two  millions  strong,  —  one  fifth  fighting  men. 

"We  are  bold  and  vigor9us,  —  and  we  call  no  man 
master! 

"  To  a  nation  from  whom  we  are  proud  to  derive  our 
origin,  we  ever  were,  and  we  ever  will  be,  ready  to  yield 
unforced  assistance ;  but  it  must  not,  and  it  never  can, 
be  extorted ! "  exclaim^ed  he,  striking  his  hand  till  the  hall 
rung  again. 

Low  murmurs  of  "  Treason  !  treason  !  "  were  heard 
in  some  parts  of  the  room ;  and  Henry  Osborne,  fearing 
his  vehemence  might  betray  him  into  danger,  gently 


44 


THE    REBELS. 


touched  his  arm.  "  Am  I  not  of  age  ?  "  said  Otis,  petu- 
lantly; but,  instantly  calming  his  irritation,  he  con- 
tinued : 

"  Some  have  sneeringly  asked,  '  Are  the  Americans 
too  poor  to  pay  a  few  pounds  on  stamped  paper  ? '  No  ! 
America,  thanks  to  God  and  herself,  is  rich.  But  the 
right  to  take  ten  pounds  implies  the  right  to  take  a  thou- 
sand ;  and  what  must  be  the  wealth  that  avarice,  aided 
by  power,  cannot  exliaust  ? 

"  True,  the  spectre  is  now  small ;  but  the  shadow  he 
casts  before  him  is  huge  enough  to  darken  all  this  fair 
land. 

*'  Others,  in  sentimental  style,  talk  of  the  immense 
debt  of  gratitude  which  we  owe  to  England.  And  what 
is  the  amount  of  this  debt  ?  Why,  truly,  it  is  the  same 
that  the  young  lion  owes  to  the  dam,  which  has  brought 
it  forth  on  the  solitude  of  the  mountain,  or  left  it  amid 
the  winds  and  storms  of  the  desert. 

"  We  plunged  into  the  wave,  with  the  magna  charta 
of  freedom  in  our  teeth,  because  the  fagot  and  the  torch 
were  behind  us.  We  have  waked  this  new  world  from 
its  savage  lethargy ;  forests  have  been  prostrated  in  our 
path ;  towns  and  cities  have  grown  up  suddenly  as  the 
flowers  of  the  tropics,  and  the  fires  in  our  autumnal 
woods  are  scarcely  more  rapid  than  the  increase  of  our 
wealth  and  population. 

"  And  do  we  owe  all  this  to  the  kind  succor  of  our 
mother  country  ?  No  I  we  owe  it  to  the  tyranny  that 
drove  us  from  her,  —  to  the  pelting  storms  which  invig- 
orated our  helpless  infancy. 

"  But  perhaps  others  will  say :    '  We  ask  no  money 


THE    REBELS.  45 

from  your  gratitude,  —  we  only  demand  that  you  should 
pay  your  ovm.  expenses.' 

"  And  who,  I  pray,  is  to  judge  of  their  necessity  ? 
Why,  the  king  —  (and,  with  all  due  reverence  to  his 
sacred  majesty,  he  understands  the  real  wants  of  his  dis- 
tant subjects  as  little  as  he  does  the  language  of  the 
Choctaws.)  Who  is  to  judge  concerning  the  frequency 
of  these  demands?  The  ministrj^  Who  is  to  judge 
whether  the  money  is  properly  expended  ?  The  cabinet 
behind  the  throne. 

"  In  every  instance,  those  who  take  are  to  judge  for 
those  who  pay  ;  and  if  this  system  is  suffered  to  go  into 
operation,  we  shall  have  reason  to  esteem  it  a  great  priv- 
ilege, that  rain  and  dew  do  not  depend  upon  Parliament ; 
otherwise,  they  would  soon  be  taxed  and  dried. 

"  But,  thanks  be  to  God,  there  is  freedom  enough  left 
upon  earth  to  resisf  such  monstrous  injustice.  The  flame 
of  liberty  is  extinguished  in  Greece  and  Rome,  but  the 
light  of  its  glov^'ing  embers  is  still  bright  and  strong  on 
the  shores  of  America.  Actuated  by  its  sacred  influence, 
we  will  resist  unto  death.  But  we  will  not  countenance 
anarchy  and  misrule.  The  WTongs  that  a  desperate 
community  have  heaped  upon  their  enemies  shall  be 
amply  and  speedily  repaired.  Still,  it  may  be  well  for 
some  proud  men  to  remember,  that  a  fire  is  lighted  in 
these  colonies,  which  one  breath  of  theirs  may  kindle 
into  such  fury,  that  the  blood  of  all  England  cannot 
extinguish  it ! " 

A  murmur  of  delight  ran  through  the  whole  assembly. 
The  impetuous  eloquence  of  his  manner  swept  every- 
thing before  it.  Loud  and  reiterated  applause  began  to 
resound  through  the  building;  and  shouts  of   "  Otis  for- 


46  THE    REBELS. 

ever !  the  friend  of  the  people  !  "  were  lieard  around  the 
doors.  Even  the  friends  of  the  administration  had 
awaited  his  conchision  in  breathless  admiration.  True, 
the  charm  ceased  with  his  voice ;  and  though  the  invol- 
untary tribute  they  had  paid  to  talents  and  integrity  could 
not  be  recalled,  it  was  immediately  overbalanced  by 
threateninof  words  and  scornful  smiles. 

To  have  surprised  an  enemy  into  unwilling  praise, 
must  give  a  delightful  consciousness  of  mental  power  to 
the  greatest  and  best  of  minds ;  but  intellect  has  a  still 
greater  triumph,  when  genius,  born  in  poverty  and  nur- 
tured in  seclusion,  sees  wealth  and  rank,  with  all  their 
gilded  trappings,  shrink  to  their  own  nothingness,  and 
pay  reluctant  homage  where  Heaven  has  set  its  own 
high  impress  of  nobility.  That  Mr.  Otis  was  too  much 
gifted  by  fortune  to  enjoy  this  last  species  of  exultation, 
certainly  did  not  soften  the  asperity  of  his  enemies.  It 
was  doubly  provoking,  that  one  whose  situation  in  society 
was  so  commanding,  and  whose  influence  was  so  exten- 
sive, should  dare  thus  openly  to  throw  the  gauntlet  of 
defiance ;  and  on  their  way  homeward,  not  a  few  talked 
of  the  necessity  of  ridding  England  of  so  fomiidable 
a  foe. 

Leaving  them  to  "  nurse  their  \\Tath,"  we  will  follow 
his  friend,  Henry  Osborne.  After  apologizing  to  Mr. 
Otis  for  his  friendly  interruption,  and  giving  his  most 
cordial  congratulations,  he  Avalked  home  through  Friezel- 
court,  thinking  it  possible  some  valuable  papers  might 
yet  be  saved. 

Many  people  were  still  around  the  doors,  intently 
examining  the  various  articles  that  lay  crushed  and 
scattered  in  every  direction. 


THE    REBELS.  47 

Henry  passed  into  the  ruined  library,  and  as  the 
gaunt  figure  of  Mr.  To\vnsend  met  his  view,  he  invol- 
untarily started  back.  The  old  miser  thrust  something 
into  his  side-pocket,  with  all  the  trembling  eagerness  of 
dotage  ;  and  immediately  began  to  make  some  inarticu- 
late apologies  about  a  paper  he  had  lost. 

"  Distressful  times,  these,  sir,"  said  he,  "  when  a 
man's  earnings  an't  safe,  night  nor  day.  Nothing  can 
be  done  with  money,  but  to  hide  it  in  the  bowels  of  the 
earth." 

"  Have  you  suffered  from  the  recent  riot  ? "  inquired 
Osborne,  with  a  mingled  expression  of  contempt  and 
compassion. 

"I  can't  say  I  have,  sir;  but  I  have  had  great  losses, 
in  my  day.     I  am  a  poor  man,  now  ;  and  —  " 

He  was  going  to  add  more,  but  the  entrance  of  Gov- 
ernor Hutchinson  and  his  sister  occasioned  a  sudden 
pause.  The  miser  changed  color,  felt  in  his  pocket  to 
ascertain  that  the  secreted  parcel  was  secure,  and  said, 
rapidly,  "  I  hope  your  honor  will  excuse  my  being  here. 
I  just  stepped  down,  to  see  how  things  looked." 

"  My  doors  always  opened  upon  the  inside,"  replied 
Hutchinson ;  "  and  1  could  not  now  close  them  against 
an}''  one,  if  I  would." 

There  was  a  slight  tremor  in  his  voice,  and  the  tears 
actually  crowded  into  his  eyes,  when  he  looked  on  the 
Avreck  of  that  splendid  librar}',  which  he  had  been  more 
than  thirty  years  collecting,  with  all  the  devotedness  of 
antiquarian  zeal.  Indeed,  the  scene  was  melancholy 
enough.  Books  were  stripped  of  their  covers,  manu- 
scripts torn  to  pieces,  the  royal  portraits  rent  from  top 


48  THE    REBELS. 

to  bottom,  and  the  beautiful,  swan-like  neck  of  Mary 
Stuart  was  all  that  remained  of  the  proud  line  of  busts. 

"  0  dear  ! "  cried  Miss  Sandford,  "  you  may  say  what 
you  will  —  the  world  never  was  half  as  wicked  as  it  is 
now.  "Who  would  think  it?"  added  she,  springing  for- 
ward, and  raising  something  from  a  heap  of  rubbish. 
"  Here  is  my  blue  silk  damask,  that  I  wore  to  a  ball  as 
long  ago  as  the  year  '25,  stuffed  into  a  porridge-pot; 
—  the  very  gown  that  Mrs.  Winthrop  hated  so  much, 
because  her  husband  insisted  upon  it  that  I  never  looked 
so  well  in  anything  else !  What  will  this  world  come 
to?" 

The  gentlemen  gave  all  the  condolence  that  so  hnport- 
ant  a  subject  demanded,  and  the  querulous  maiden 
began  making  fresh  researches.  At  every  new  instance 
of  wasteful  destruction,  Mr.  To^vnsend  would  signify  his 
horror,  by  a  sympathizing  groan.  At  first.  Miss  Sand- 
ford  felt  disposed  to  ask  him  to  leave  the  room;  but 
when  she  looked  up,  and  saw  his  grotesque  figure  bend- 
ing over  the  ruined  furniture  with  such  a  look  of  utter 
distress,  she  felt  strongly  inclined  to  be  merry  at  his 
expense.  Perceiving  the  gentlemen  had  passed  into  the 
adjoining  rooms,  she  ventured  to  compromise  with 
dignity,  and  began,  "  When  1  wore  this  go^vn,  Mr. 
Townsend,  you  were  young,  and  used  to  attend  balls,  I 
suppose." 

"  O  dear,  yes,"  rejoined  the  miser.  *'  I  have  spent 
a  deal  of  money  in  them  foolish  ways ;  the  more  is  the 

pity." 

"  But  they  say  you  are  very  rich,  now." 
*'-Do  they?"   said   the   old   man,  chuckling.     Then, 
putting  on  a  long  face,  he  added,  "  'Tan't  true,  though. 


THE    REBELS.  49 

I'm  a  dreadful  poor  man.     Just  enough  to  keep  soul 
and  body  together,  that 's  all." 

"  I  should  not  think  your  soul  and  body  would  be  a 
veiy  weighty  concern,  whether  together  or  separate. 
You  are  very  much  out  of  health  ? " 

"  Yes,  indeed,  I  am.     I  have  a  power  of  diseases." 

"  Perhaps  you  suffer  for  want  of  good  nursing.  It  is 
a  pity  you  had  not  married  when  you  were  3'oung,  Mr. 
Townsend." 

"  I  don't  know,  I  don't  know.  Women  are  dreadful 
expensive." 

"  But  you  are  rich,  and  it  is  not  too  late  now  to  find 
some  kind,  notable  woman  for  a  wife." 

"  I  hope  it  is,  I  hope  it  is.  Women  are  despit  expens- 
ive. Why,  I  don't  keep  a  horse,  because  it  costs  such  a 
power  of  money." 

"But,  ?Jr.  To'^msend,  a  prudent  woman  —  " 

"  I  tell  you  they  are  all  dreadful  costly ! "  exclaimed 
the  persecuted  bachelor,  pushing  his  cap  hard  over-  his 
forehead,  and  making  the  best  of  his  way  out  of  the 
house. 

After  examining  the  chambers,  to  ascertain  whether 
any  remnant  of  a  wardrobe  could  be  found,  ]\Iiss  Sand- 
ford  and  her  brother  returned  to  ]\Ir.  Osborne's,  where 
they  had  consented  to  take  up  their  temporar}'  abode. 

The  interview  with  the  miser  afforded  the  girls  many 
a  laugh ;  but  when  Doctor  Byles  heard  of  it,  he  shooli; 
his  head  significantly,  and  said,  "  There  is  many  a  true 
word  spoken  in  jest." 

5 


CHAPTER   V. 

And  mortals  dared  to  ponder  for  themselves, 
To  weigh  kings  in  the  balance,  and  to  speak 
Of  freedom,  the  forbidden  fruit. 

Manfred. 

When  the  plague  raged  iii  London,  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  features  of  the  time  was  the  total  forgetful- 
ness  of  all  religious  distinctions.  A  house  of  prayer 
was  enough  to  suffice  hearts  broken  down  by  many  sor- 
rows ;  and  if  the  soul  could  but  prostrate  itself  before  its 
God,  it  was  careless  whether  the  body  knelt  or  stood,  — 
whether  hands  were  uplifted,  or  censers  waved.  But 
when  the  curse  had  departed  from  the  land,  again  the 
temple  of  Divine  truth  resounded  with  the  din  of  jarring 
sectaries,  and  its  sacred  courts  were  once  more  polluted 
by  man's  unholy  passions. 

In  the  same  manner,  the  scene  of  imminent  peril 
which  we  have  described  subdued,  for  a  while,  all  the 
rancor  of  political  animosity. 

The  disinterested  firmness  and  the  ready  hospitality 
of  Mr.  Osborne  were  repaid  with  prompt  and  gmteful 
affection ;  and  it  was  not  until  Doctor  Willard  met  the 
same  company,  at  the  house  of  his  friend,  on  the  ensu- 
ing evening,  that  party  distinctions  were  for  a  moment 
revived. 

When  he  regretted  the  depredations  of  the  rabble, 
Hutchinson  answered,  "The  rabble  would  have  been 
excusable,  sir ;  but  these  things  are  excited  by  men  who 


THE    REBELS. 


51 


would  honor  a  nobler  cause.     This  is  the  price  I  pay  for 
being  chief  justice  at  the  expense  of  the  elder  Otis." 

"With  indignation  I  repel  the  charge,  that  the  late 
riots  were  either  instigated  or  approved  by  such  men  as 
Otis  and  his  associates,"  replied  \Villard.  "  They  will 
fearlessly  resist  oppression,  but  they  will  nexei  encour- 
age violence.  Have  not  the  community  expressed  their 
abhorrence  with  sufficient  union  and  energy"  ?  Have  not 
the  good  citizens  of  Boston  voluntarily  taken  every  pre- 
caution to  prevent  such  excesses  in  future  ? " 

"  That  is  all  nonsense,"  exclaimed  the  chief  justice. 
"  You  boast  of  your  proceedings  at  Faneuil  Hall  —  but 
what  was  Otis'  speech,  but  the  rankest  rebellion  ?  The 
people  would  do  well  enough,  if  they  were  not  led  on  by 
a  few  intriguing  individuals." 

"  Our  confusions  do  not  originate  in  the  arts  of 
demagogues,  but  in  the  tyranny  of  rulers,  sir,"  replied 
llie  young  patriot.  "  The  Geslers  of  Switzerland,  the 
Granvels  of  Holland,  the  Lauds  and  Straffords  of  Eng- 
land, were  the  undoubted  authors  of  the  tragedies  acted 
in  their  respective  countries;  and — "  he  paused  a 
moment  —  "I  leave  to  your  own  conscience,  who  will 
be  answerable,  if  one  drop  of  American  blood  is  ever 
shed  in  this  contest." 

The  goA^emor  appeared  struck  with  the  boldness  of  his 
manner,  and  remained  silent. 

"  Yet  there  certainly  were  men  above  the  common 
mass,  among  the  crowd  of  rioters,"  said  Somerville. 

"  True,"  answered  Henry  Osborne  ;  "  but,  were  you  at 
the  bar  of  the  House  of  Commons,  could  you,  in  con- 
science, deny  that  the  efforts  of  those  men  were  to  regu- 
late and  control  the  populace?" 


62  THE    REBELS. 

"  I  certainly  do  not  forget  the  noble  conduct  of  Samuel 
Adams,"  rejoined  Somersdlle ;  "  nor  am  I  unmindful  of 
what  we  owe  to  your  father."  He  looked  significantly 
at  Doctor  Willard,  and  added,  "  Neither  have  I  forgotten 
that  some  of  America's  best  blood  did  not  disdain  to  seek 
my  uncle  under  the  Liberty-tree." 

"Make  what  use  you  will  of  the  knowledge  which 
circumstances  have  put  in  your  power,"  said  Willard. 
"  I  do  not  deny  that  I  sought  him  there ;  but  I  must  add, 
none  more  heartily  regretted  the  summons  than  my- 
self." 

"  I  believe  you,  young  man,"  said  Doctor  Byles;  "  but, 
after  all,  you  must  be  aware,  that  it  is  much  like  open- 
ing the  sluices  of  a  stream,  and  then  attempting  to  stem 
it  with  sand.  He  who  teaches  a  people  to  distrust  their 
sovereign,  and  fills  their  heads  with  delirious  dreams  of 
their  own  rights,  is  answerable  for  all  the  excesses  of 
■  their  fury ;  and,  I  must  confess,  I  see  no  way  to  put  an 
end  to  these  mischiefs,  but  by  cutting  off  such  men  as 
Hancock  and  Adams.  Notwithstanding  all  that  has 
been  said  in  Faneuil  Hall  to-day,  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  such  men  are  the  instigators.  To  reason  they  will 
never  listen;  but  indictments,  fines,  scaffolds,  and  gib- 
bets, are  the  strongest  arguments  in  the  world.  I  never 
knew  a  man  get  the  better,  in  disputing  with  them."  • 

"  It  would  be  but  one  head  of  the  Hydra,"  observed 
Willard,  in  a  tone  he  vainly  endeavored  to  render  calm. 
"  Public  indignation  is  not  to  be  mistaken  for  the  per- 
sonal interest,  or  the  factious  zeal,  of  a  few.  That  the 
stream  overruns  its  banks,  argues  that  it  is  full  even  to 
excess ;  and  should  the  waters  subside  into  smoothness 
for  a  while,  you  may  rely  upon  it,  the  waves  beneath  are 


THE    REBELS.  53 

rolling  and  gatlierino:  in  their  might.  America  never 
^^'ill  submit,  sir.  We  have  drawn  the  sword  of  opposi- 
tion, and  we  throw  the  scabbard  into  the  fire." 

"  You  had  better  put  it  in  your  pocket,  young  man," 
replied  Doctor  Byles,  with  a  dr^-ness  of  sarcasm  that  was 
irresistibly  ludicrous.  "  You  might  very  possibly  want 
the  sheath,  in  the  presence  of  well-disciphned  English 
armies." 

"  True,  the  British  infantry  can  acquit  themselves 
well  in  the  gay  reviews,  exhibited  for  royal  amusement, 
in  Hyde  Park,  or  on  Wimbledon  Conmion ;  but  they 
have  never  fought  with  Englishmen,"  replied  Willard. 
*'  Our  forefathers  brought  the  spirit  of  liberty  from  their 
native  land,  when  it  was  in  the  greatest  purity  and  per- 
fection there ;  and  it  has  not  degenerated,  by  change  of 
climate.  Those  who  tamper  with  it  may  perhaps  be 
scorched  by  a  flame  they  know  not  how  to  extinguish." 

*'  Bravely  said,  Doctor  Willard  I  "  exclaimed  Hutchin- 
son. "  I  was  not  aware  you  were  so  ready  to  throw  off 
the  mask  of  loyalty." 

The  eyes  of  the  young  patriot  flashed.  "  I  wear  no 
masks,"  said  he ;  "  and  those  who  do,  will  soon  find 
them  useless." 

*'3Iy  friend  spoke  of  things  possible,  not  desirable,'^ 
continued  Henr^"  Osborne.  "  He  must  be  blind,  indeed, 
if  he  did  not  perceive  that  a  momentous  crisis  was 
near  at  hand.  The  cards  are  shuffling  fast,  throughout 
Europe." 

"Where   will   the   regiments  of  England,   and   the 
horde  of  soldiers  that  her  wealth  can  buy  in  from  the 
continent,  find  the  strength  that  is  to  oppose  their  pro- 
gress ? "  asked  Hutchinson. 
.  5=* 


54  THE    REBELS. 

"  The  sword  that  has  been  sharpened  on  the  heart 
does  deadlier  execution  than  the  sabre  of  the  mercena- 
ry," rejoined  Willard.  "  Besides,  England  has  not  much 
to  expect  from  foreign  troops.  It  is  notorious  that  the 
king  is  on  exceedingly  ill  terms  with  the  Emperor  of 
Germany.  Frederic  of  Prussia  hated  his  grandfather; 
and  it  is  not  probable  he  likes  the  young  monarch  any 
more,  for  his  union  with  the  house  of  Mecklenburg." 

"  Many  from  the  heart  of  this  country  would  join  the 
royal  standard,"  said  Doctor  Byles. 

"  Dreadfully  formidable  they  must  be,"  retorted  Henry 
Osborne.  "  Let  me  think :  there  would  be  Justice 
Sewall,  the  Honorable  Mr.  Paxton,  Brigadier  Ruggles, 
some  twenty  or  thirty  of  the  relations  and  dependants  of 
Governor  Hutchinson ;  and  perhaps  we  might  add,  a  rev- 
erend pontifex,  with  bands  and  robe  jfioating  in  the  air, 
leading  them  on  to  victory." 

"I   wonder  I   have  not  been  mobbed,"  said  Doctor 

Byles,  laughing  outright.     "I  am  sure  I  should  have 

been,  if  the  people  had  known  one  thing  of  which  I  am 

guilty." 

f      "What  is  that?"   asked  Lucretia,  who  occasionally 

(_  attended  to  the  conversation. 

"  Why,  your  uncle  has  had  all  this  trouble,  because 
he  holds  five  'posts.  Now,  whoever  will  take  the  trouble 
to  notice,  when  he  goes  by  my  door,  will  see  that  I  have 
lately  had  fifteen." 

The  company  all  smiled,  and  Mr.  Osborne  said,  "  You 
attribute  our  difficulties  to  causes  too  local.  Brother  Byles. 
A  few  offices  bestowed  contrary  to  our  wishes  form  but 
a  feather  in  the  balance.  It  is  this  enslaving  principle 
of  taxation  without  representation,  that  we  all  complain 


THE    REBELS.         '  55 

of  as  ruinous,  and  which  has  already  driven  some  of 
us  to  frig-htful  excesses.  My  son  and  his  friend  have 
indeed  talked  somewhat  openly;  but  how  is  it  possible 
for  any  of  us  to  conceal  from  our  own  hearts  what  must 
be  the  result,  if  the  present  system  is  pursued  ?  "With 
the  lapse  of  time,  this  country-  must  fall  from  England, 
like  ripe  fruit  from  the  tree  that  has  formed  it ;  but  why 
should  the  hand  of  oppression  shake  it  to  the  ground 
while  it  is  yet  unripe,  because  it  must  drop  in  its  ma- 
turity ? " 

"  Nay,  if  losing  you  is  so  certain,"  replied  the  doctor, 
"  we  had  best  do  it  at  once.  You  know  the  old  proverb, 
'  Good  riddance,'  &c.  ?  " 

"  England  might  well  repeat  the  proverb,  with  regard 
to  Massachusetts,"  added  Hutchinson.  "  She  has  been 
refractor^',  from  her  earliest  infancy." 

"And  well  she  may  be,"  said  Henr^-  Osborne,  "  when 
she  has  not  the  power  to  choose  her  o^sti  state  officers, 
and  is  compelled  to  take  them  from  men  whose  interest 
it  is  to  oppress  and  vilify  her." 

The  governor  frowned  at  this  home-thrust.  "  You 
may  thank  your  own  obstinacy  for  that,"  replied  he. 
"  Had  you  complied  with  the  royal  pleasure,  in  the  reign 
of  James  the  Second,  your  original  charter  would  not 
have  been  condemned.  But  you  chose  to  declare  in 
favor  of  the  revolution  ministers,  those  makers  and 
unmakers  of  kings ;  and  what  did  you  receive  for  your 
pains  ?  Truly,  nothing  more  than  a  mutilated  charter, 
shorn  of  one  half  its  privileges,  from  the  hands  of  AVil- 
liam  and  ]\Iary.  Thus  may  rebellion  always  flourish. 
Have  you  other  grievances,  weighty  as  those  you  have 
mentioned  ? " 


56  THE    REBELS, 

"  You,  of  all  men,  need  not  ask  what  are  our  wrongs," 
rejoined  Henry  Osborne.  "  You  need  not  be  told  that 
wicked  men  are  allowed  to  put  their  hands  in  our  pock- 
ets, and  draw  from  thence  pay  for  their  parasites  and 
plunderers." 

"  Why,  in  being  taxed,  you  do  but  share  the  fate  of 
other  British  subjects,"  answered  the  chief  justice. 
"  To  take  protection,  implies  that  you  promise  obedience; 
and,  really,  after  England  has  fed  you,  clothed  you,  and 
fought  for  you,  it  is  not  unreasonable  you  should  do 
something  for  your  own  support." 

"  I  have  no  patience  to  hear  this,"  exclaimed  Willard, 
starting  on  his  feet.  "  Fed  and  clothed  us,  indeed  !  You 
spurned  us  from  you ;  and,  thanks  to  ourselves,  we  have 
struggled  on  to  prosperity.  France  is  no  enemy  to  Amer- 
ica, but  to  England.  We  have  had  wars,  because  we 
belonged  to  her ;  and  if  she  helped  us,  she  did  but  her 
own  work.  Besides,  w^e  are  not  unwilling  to  pay  our 
full  share  toward  the  support  of  the  British  empire.  We 
only  wish  to  have  our  property  fairly  represented." 

"  I  know  that  is  your  favorite  plea,"  replied  Somer- 
ville.  "  But  you  are,  in  fact,  as  virtually  represented  in 
the  British  Parliament  as  our  Irish  brethren." 

"  As  virtually  represented  as  the  English  commons 
are  in  a  council  of  the  Cherokees !  "  said  young  Os- 
borne. 

It  was  Somerville's  nature  to  sympathize  with  every- 
thing bold  and  fearless ;  and,  as  he  looked  at  Grace,  he 
was  delighted  with  the  fluctuating  color  that  betrayed 
the  keen  interest  she  took  in  the  conversation  of  her 
father  and  brother.  Perhaps  wiser  men  than  he  would 
have  wavered  in  an  opinion  formed  by  accidental  circum- 


THE    REBELS.  57 

Stances,  and  supported  by  pride,  for  the  sake  of  a  smile 
from  lips  as  beautiful  as  the  rose-bud,  just  bursting  from 
its  caljTC. 

"  I  cannot  but  support  ihe  supreme  legislation  of  my 
country,"  said  he ;  "  and  I  shall  always  maintain  the 
right  of  Parliament  to  tax  her  colonies  when  and  how 
they  think  proper;  but  1  must  acknowledge,  I  begin  to 
think  that  the  present  system  of  taxation  is  impolitic, 
however  just  it  may  be." 

"  And  pray,  sir,  may  I  ask  on  what  you  found  so  wise 
an  opinion?  "  asked  Doctor  Byles. 

"  I  think  that  the  bulk  of  the  American  people  are 
under  so  strong  a  delusion,  and  the  spirit  that  every- 
where pervades  them  is  so  dauntless,  that  a  victory, 
even  if  it  should  cost  us  but  little  blood  and  treasure, 
would  take  from  us  what  is  far  more  valuable ;  for, 
instead  of  faithful  subjects,  the  king  would  have  a  parcel 
of  discontented  citizens,  ready  to  explode  at  every  spark 
of  excitement.  Besides,  it  is  well  for  government  never 
to  attempt  what  they  are  not  sure  of  performing.  Noth- 
ing is  so  dangerous  to  authority  as  a  command  success- 
fully resisted." 

"  And,  for  fear  of  all  this,  you  would  have  the  lion 
fawn,  and  cringe,  and  lick  the  hand  of  the  wayward 
baby;  and,  if  medicine  must  be  given,  it  must,  forsooth, 
be  hid  in  sugar  !  "  said  Doctor  Byles. 

"  If  you  have  so  high  an  opinion  of  their  prowess, 
you  had  better  join  their  cause,  nephew,"  added  Hutch- 
inson, with  great  bitterness  of  manner. 

Grace,  alarmed  at  the  increasing  acrimony  of  the  con- 
versation, turned  to  Henry,  and  said,  playfully,  *'  I  wish 
you  gentlemen  would  leave  politics,  and  teach  me  how 


58  THE    REBELS. 

to  carry  war  into  the  enemy's  quarters,  on  this  chess- 
board." 

"  A  wise  speech,  Miss  Osborne,"  said  Doctor  Byles. 
"  I  have  been  highly  amused  at  the  folly  of  this  conver- 
sation ;  and  was  just  about  to  say  to  Brother  Osborne 
that  we  would  drown  all  heart-burnings  in  a  good  ortho- 
dox bowl  of  punch,  which  I  see  he  is  preparing." 

"  Pray  how  much  does  an  orthodox  bowl  hold  ?  " 
asked  Mr.  Osborne. 

"  Are  you  not  theologian  enough  to  know?  "  rejoined 
the  doctor.     "  It  contains  ■pTecise]y  Jive  pints." 

A  smile  again  went  round  the  room  ;  but  it  gave  place 
to  respectful  attention,  when,  assuming  the  dignified 
seriousness  that  so  well  became  him,  he  took  the  offered 
glass,  and  said,  "  Do  not  you,  my  friends,  forget  that  we 
are  grateful  men,  and  we  will  never  forget  that  you  are 
conscientious." 

Mr.  Osborne  readily  pledged  the  sentiment ;  political 
discord  was  again  hushed,  and  the  remainder  of  the 
evening  passed  in  cheerful  good-humor. 

"  I  have  not  been  inattentive  to  your  game,  Miss  Os- 
borne, though  I  have  been  so  earnest  in  conversation," 
said  Somerville.  "Miss  Fitzherbert  will  be  the  con- 
queror, I  foresee." 

"  As  she  always  is,  in  a  contest  with  me,"  replied 
Grace,  smiling.  "  She  has  taken  both  my  castles,  and 
all  my  knights." 

''Both,  but  not  all  your  knights,  Miss  Osborne," 
rejoined  Somerville,  with  a  glance  that  could  not  be 
misunderstood. 

The  suffusion  that  flitted  over  Grace's  cheek  was  as 
lio^ht  and  transient  as  the  rose-tint  that  the  setting  sun 


THE    REBELS.  59 

casts  on  the  drifted  snow ;  but  Lucretia  blushed  that 
deep  and  glowing  red  which  a  painful  sensation  can 
alone  call  to  the  face  ;  and  Doctor  Willard  turned  away 
from  the  too  beaming  expression  of  Somerville's  coun- 
tenance, with  an  audible  sigh. 

"  I  understand  that  Whitfield  is  to  preach  for  you, 
next  Sabbath,  Doctor  Byles,"  said  Henr}^  Osborne. 

"  He  is,"  rejoined  the  clerg}'man ;  "  and  I  suppose  the 
joints  of  Hollis-street  church  will  crack  with  its  ful- 
ness." 

"I  have  never  heard  that  celebrated  orator,"  ob- 
served Somerville ;  though  I  was  ver}'  near  Bristol, 
when  he  was  there,  drawing  such  crowds  after  him.  1 
remember  that  one  who  heard  his  farewell  address  to 
the  good  people  of  that  city  said  Whitfield  preached  it 
like  a  lion." 

"  And  he  described  his  eloquence  well,"  obsen-ed 
Doctor  Byles.  "  Whitfield  feels  the  importance  of  his 
subject,  and  he  makes  others  feel  it." 

"  Brother  Chauncy  considers  him  half  enthusiast,  half 
h^-pocrite,"  said  Mr.  Osborne  ;  "  but  I  must  say  that  I 
think  his  piety  as  sincere  as  it  is  fervid." 

"  Will  you  accompany  me  to  Hollis-street,  on  Sunday, 
young  ladies  ?  "  inquired  Somerville. 

Grace  looked  to  her  father  for  consent,  and  having 
readily  received  it,  cheerfully  agreed  to  the  proposal. 

"  And  whom  must  you  ask,  Miss  Fitzherbert  ? " 
said  he. 

"  Aunt  Sandford  is  visiting  one  of  her  friends,  for  a 
few  days  —  so  I  cannot  ask  her  ;  and  Uncle  Hutchinson 
has  already  looked  that  I  might  go." 

Somerville  rallied  them  a  little  about  being  so  duti- 


60  THE    REBELS. 

ful  and  obedient ;  and  talked  of  Hesperian  fruit,  drag- 
ons, &c. 

The  minutes  "flew  away  with  down  upon  their 
feet ; "  and  it  was  late  when  Doctor  Willard  looked  at 
his  watch,  and  observed,  "My  time  must  be  too  fast." 

"  How  can  it  be  otherwise,  when  it  has  such  fair 
reasons  for  its  flight?"  said  Somerville,  bowing  to 
Grace. 

The  young  physician  turned  rapidly,  and  bade  the 
company  good-evening. 

Doctor  Byles,  too,  who  had  been  engaged  with  Mr. 
Osborne  in  a  discussion  concerning  the  different  tenets 
of  Wesley  and  Whitfield,  arose  and  prepared  to  depart. 

"  I  must  not  lose  your  friendship,  if  I  am  a  whig," 
said  Mr.  Osborne,  as  the  doctor  moved  toward  the  door. 

"  \ou  see.  Brother  Osborne,  that  a  wig  is  very  near  to 
me,"  replied  he,  touching  his  head. 

"  Near  to  your  head,  but  not  to  your  heart,"  said 
Lucretia. 

"  Those  who  know  me  well  know  that  they  are  very 
near  each  other,"  responded  he  ;  and,  bidding  them  all 
an  affectionate  good-night,  he  returned  to  his  home. 

The  family  devotions,  which  immediately  followed  his 
departure,  were  perfectly  delightful  to  all.  The  simple 
and  impressive  prayer,  in  which  the  father  so  earnestly 
entreated  that  the  snares  of  youth  might  not  be  con- 
cealed beneath  its  flowers,  betrayed  such  a  mixture  of 
human  tenderness  and  religious  fervor,  that  his  guests 
could  not  but  forgive  the  emphasis  with  which  he  begged 
that  "  God  would  guide  the  hearts  of  kings,  and  give 
their  counsellors  wisdom." 


CHAPTER    VI. 

"Sohj"  thought  Mr.  Glossin,  "here  is  one  finger  in,  at  least ;  and 
that  I  will  make  the  means  of  introducing  my  vrhole  hand." 

Guy  Marmering. 

We  must  now  call  the  attention  of  our  readers  to  the 
miser  whom  we  introduced  in  our  second  chapter.  A 
day  or  two  after  the  riot  in  Friezel-court,  he  was  en- 
gaged in  earnest  conversation  with  a  desperate  looking 
man,  to  whom  he  was  bound  by  those  terribly  galling 
chains  which  link  the  guilty  in  unhallowed  communion. 

In  tones  of  whining  entreaty,  Mr.  Townsend  began  by 
saying,  "  So,  after  helping  me  to  these  Fitzherbert  pa- 
pers, and  after  forging  letters  to  the  widow,  you  say  you 
will  leave  me  in  the  lurch,  if  I  get  into  any  trouble  by 
this  deuced  East  India  uncle's  coming  to  life  again.  I 
heard  all  the  name  were  dead  and  gone ;  and  my  heart 
has  been  at  rest  about  'em,  many  a  year." 

"When  it  is  knowTi  that  Mrs.  Fitzherbert's  letters 
never  reached  England,  you  will  be  suspected,  of  course  ; 
but  there  is  no  witness  to  prove  anything  against  you, 
but  myself,  —  and  you  know  well  enough  what  will  buy 
me.'^  ' 

"  I  have  told  you,  a  thousand  times,  that  you  should 
be  remembered  in  my  will." 

"So  the  bird  promised  his  wings  to  the  mouse,  that 
gnawed  open  the  door  of  his  cage ;  but  the  first  thing 
the  poor  mouse  knew,  was  that  his  wings  had  borne  him 
off  to  the  skies.  I  don't  mean,  by  the  way,  that  there  is 
any  danger  of  your  taking  an  upward  journey.  Never- 
6 


62  THE    REBELS. 

theless,  you  may  die  shortly,  and  what  good  will  your 
promises  do  me  then  ?  I  want  no  legacy  for  myself.  I 
have  already  told  you  that  every  penny  of  your  property 
must  be  left  to  the  one  I  shall  name  to  you,  unless  you 
are  willing  to  have  your  life  left  at  the  mercy  of  the 
law." 

The  miser  groaned,  in  all  the  various  tones  of  dis- 
tressed dotage. 

"  There  is  no  use  in  bewailing  the  matter  thus,"  said 
his  rough  companion.  "  The  will  must  be  drawn, 
signed,  and  attested,  before  this  night.  Else  I  will 
tell  all." 

"  You  ha'n't  any  proof,"  rejoined  the  trembling  miser; 
"  and  who  is  going  to  believe  your  word  ? " 

"  The  devil,  I  ha'n't !  "  exclaimed  Wilson.  "  Hav'  n't 
I  all  the  captain's  papers,  and  the  widow's  letters, 
locked  fast  in  my  chest  ?  " 

The  features  of  the  old  man  were  convulsed  with  rage 
and  fear.  * 

"  You  told  me,"  said  he,  "  that  you  lost  them  in  the 
street,  the  night  of  the  fracas." 

"  I  lied,  for  sport,"  replied  Wilson.  "  Do  you  think  I 
would  carry  such  papers  in  my  pocket,  when  I  went 
into  the  midst  of  a  mob  ? " 

"  You  stole  'em  from  me,  with  false  keys  !  "  murmured 
Townsend. 

"  That 's  neither  here  nor  there,  so  long  as  I  have  got 
them,  and  there  are  marks  enough  on  their  white  faces 
to  hang  you  high  and  dry." 

"  I  can  prove  to  the  lieutenant  governor,  that  you 
were  among  the  rioters,"  growled  the  miser. 

"And  much  good  may  it  do  him  and  you.     Tell  him 


THE    REBELS.  63 

to  send  a  warrant  after  the  fly  that  bites  him  in  harvest- 
time.  Gibbet-making  will  be  a  profitable  trade,  if  all 
who  committed  that  offence  are  to  be  hung.  Send  him 
word  that  I  was  in  the  mob;  and,  as  an  offset,  I  will  let 
him  know^  of  the  bank-notes  you  picked  up  in  his  library, 
and  thrust  into  your  pocket." 

"  The  evil  one  helps  you  !  "  exclaimed  he.  "  How 
could  you  know  that  ?  " 

"If  he  finds  time  to  help  me,  it  is  because  you  have 
learned  out,"  said  Wilson.  *'  I  found  it  out  by  my  eyes, 
which  have  helped  me  to  many  a  useful  thing,  in  my 
day.  You  see  I  have  evidence  enough  to  do  what  I  have 
a  mind  to  ;  and  I  promise  you  1  will  make  use  of  it,  if 
this  day  closes  without  your  making  a  will  in  favor  of 
my  daughter." 

"  Daughter !  I  never  heard  you  had  a  wife." 

An  agonized  expression  passed  over  Wilson's  face. 
"  I  have  a  daughter,"  said  he,  "  as  lovely  a  creature  as 
man  ever  looked  on.     O  !  — " 

He  stooped  down,  and  covered  his  face  with  his 
hands. 

Mr.  Townsend  gazed  at  him,  in  a  perfect  stupor  of 
surprise ;  for  it  was  long  since  he  had  witnessed  any- 
thing like  human  emotion. 

Wilson  rose  and  w^alked  across  the  room  several  times. 
"  Why  have  I  betrayed  the  sorrows  of  a  bursting  heart 
to  such  a  wretch  as  he  is  ?  "  thought  he.  He  stopped 
before  Mr.  Townsend,  and,  with  a  mixture  of  sadness  and 
decision,  said,  "  I  have  no  earthly  hopes  or  wishes,  but 
for  this  child.  If  you  will  leave  her  all  your  property,  it 
will  be  well  with  you.  If  not,  I  put  the  match  to  a  mine 
that  will  blow  you  up  in  its  explosion." 


64  THE    REBELS. 

"  There  an't  a  charge  of  powder  in  the  house,'* 
rejoined  the  old  man.  "I  never  buy  things  I  don't 
want." 

"Fool!"  exclaimed  Wilson,  "  the  powder  I  blow  up 
will  be  your  own  knavery.  Will  you,  or  will  you  not, 
comply  with  my  directions  ?  " 

The  miser  groaned  deeply.  "  It  is  hard  to  toil  the 
best  of  one's  days,  and  then  throw  the  money  away  upon 
strangers,"  said  he.  "My  nephew  often  sends  me  a 
pretty  letter  and  a  bottle  of  wine,  free  of  expense,  and  he 
is  the  only  one  that  cares  for  the  poor  old  man.  Besides, 
I  don't  know  but  I  may  change  my  situation.  One  of 
the  first  ladies  in  the  place  did  the  same  as  tell  me  she 
would  marry  me." 

"  She  would  send  to  the  dissection-room  for  a  bride- 
groom, as  soon,"  replied  Wilson,  with  a  look  indicating 
the  deepest  contempt.  "  Shall  I  send  for  a  lawyer,  about 
this  business  ?  " 

"  If  I  could  be  sure  about  that  box  of  silver,"  said  the 
old  man,  hesitatingly. 

"  You  may  be  sure  of  it,  if  3'ou  will  follow  my  direc- 
tions.    I  know  where  it  is." 

"  And  why  don't  you  get  it  yourself  ? "  asked  the 
miser,  with  a  look  that  he  intended  should  be  extremely 
arch. 

"It  would  be  ill  work  digging  that  depth  alone ;  and 
there  must  be  numbers  for  the  charm,  they  say." 

"  How  did  you  first  know  about  it  ? "  said  the  old 
man,  drawing  his  chair  close  to  the  speaker. 

"  When  I  was  on  board  the  pirate  ship,  we  overtook  a 
richly  freighted  vessej,  a  little  ofT  Cuba.  We  boarded 
her,  and   seized   all  her   cargo.      A  small   iron  chest, 


THE    REBELS.  65 

directed  to  Halifax,  was  taken  out  of  the  cabin.  Two 
rolls  of  parchment  were  found  on  the  top,  containing 
the  name  of  the  owner,  and  mentioning  the  captain  to 
whose  care  it  was  intrusted,  the  destination  of  the 
vessel,  and  so  forth.  On  a  strip  of  canvass  were  spread 
twelve  ingots  of  gold ;  and,  beneath  this,  the  Spanish 
silver  lay  in  piles.  This  treasure  belonged  to  Captain 
Fitzherbert,  who  had  left  it  in  the  care  of  a  friend  at 
Cuba,  with  directions  to  send  it  to  his  widow,  at  Halifax, 
in  case  of  his  death.  The  captain  and  mate  took  theJt- 
strong  box  to  themselves,  dividing  the  remainder  of  the 
prize  (and  a  noble  one  she  was)  among  us  sailors.  To 
make  a  long  story  short,  we  made  for  Boston;  and, 
when  we  came  within  sight  of  the  island,  the  captain 
despatched  a  boat,  with  three  men  and  a  negro,  toward 
the  castle,  about  midnight.  I  heard  them  whisper, 
'  Place  it  where  the  shadows  of  the  two  elms  meet  at 
twelve  o'clock.' 

"  '  We  know  how  to  do  the  business,'  was  the  answer; 
and  presently  the  dead  silence  was  disturbed  by  the 
loud  dash  of  their  oars,  as  they  manfully  rowed  towards 
land. 

"  '  Muffle  your  oars  ! '  said  the  mate.     '  D n  you, 

you  '11  wake  the  castle  guard,  at  this  rate.' 

" '  Keep  in  the  shade,  as  you  pass  the  garrison,'  said 
the  captain. 

"  The  commands  were  obeyed ;  and  the  trickling  of 
the  water  was  all  I  heard.  The  boat  swept  round  to 
the  back  part  of  the  island,  and  I  saw  it  no  more.  The 
next  day,  the  three  men  returned;  but  the  negro  was 
not  with  them." 

"  What  had  become  of  him  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Townsend. 
6=^ 


66  THE    REBELS. 

"  He  was  sacrificed  to  the  devil.  They  always  put  a 
corpse  under  their  treasure." 

"  And  is  the  box  there  now  ?  " 

"  No  doubt.  It  is  no  easy  work  to  get  money  that  is 
left  in  the  grip  of  Satan,  unless  one  knows  how  to  loosen 
his  fingers." 

"  And  can  that  be  done  ?  "  eagerly  inquired  the  miser. 

"  There  is  a  woman,  called  Molly  the  w^itch,  who, 
they  say,  knows  the  art.  I  will  go  to  her  for  information, 
if  you  will  pay  the  men  for  digging,  and  give  me  a 
hundred  crow^ns  for  my  trouble ;  and  as  for  this  affair 
about  the  will,  if  you  do  as  I  tell  you,  the  negro  buried 
under  that  iron  chest  could  not  keep  your  secret  better 
than  I  will." 

"  If  I  was  sure  there  would  be  the  valee  of —  " 

"  Not  less  than  ten  thousand  pounds,  I  promise  you," 
interrupted  Wilson. 

The  old  man  paused,  before  he  ventured  to  sa}^,  "  I 
have  not  long  to  live  ;  but  nobody  cares  for  that.  1 
shall  neither  be  missed  nor  moaned.  This  nephew  is 
the  only  being  that  has  a  drop  of  my  father's  blood  in 
his  veins.     I  cannot  disinherit  him." 

"  You  have  been  playing  a  game  of  selfishness  and 
guilt,  all  3^our  life,"  responded  Wilson ;  "  and  now  that 
you  are  completely  in  the  nine-holes,  you  wdll  not  throw 
your  knave  of  trumps  on  the  last  lift." 
■  For  the  first  time,  Wilson  perceived  some  emotion  on 
the  face  of  that  lonely  mortal.  "  Old  as  I  am,  I  must 
expect  to  die  soon,"  said  he;  "but  I  would  not  dangle 
from  a  halter.  I  should  not  think  you  would  have  the 
heart  to  tumble  this  old  carcass  into  the  grave." 

"  I  have  been  familiar  with  blood,"  replied  his  des- 


THE    REBELS.  67 

perate  associate ;  "  but  I  don't  want  your  wretched  life, 
if  you  will  give  your  bags  of  gold  instead." 

The  miser  leaned  his  hands  upon  his  knees,  rocked 
vehemently  from  side  to  side,  and  heaved  his  accus- 
tomed groan,  —  but  said  nothing. 

"  Tell  me  instantly  what  you  will  do  !  "  said  Wilson, 
seizinsf  his  shoulder  with  a  fierceness  that  made  him 
quake  beneath  his  grasp.  "  Shall  I  go  to  Hutchinson, 
and  procure  a  Tyburn  tippet  for  you?  Or,  will  you 
provide  for  my  daughter?" 

Half  friditened  out  of  his  senses,  the  old  man  mut- 
tered,  "  If  the  young  folks  would  but  marry  —  " 

"  A  bright  thought,  by  Jove ! "  exclaimed  Wilson ;  — 
and  he  went  on  talking  to  himself,  in  an  under  tone, 
"  Clever  fellow,  too ;  as  much  better  than  this  old  fool  as 
Gertrude  is  better  than  I  am.  But,"  continued  he,  aloud, 
"  what  will  you  do  for  me,  if  the  young  man  has  some 
boyish  freak,  and  chooses  to  marrj'  another  ?  " 

"  I  will  leave  something  to  the  young  woman.  May 
be,  fixe  thousand  crowTis." 

"  The  whole !  the  wdiole !  every  farthing  of  j'our 
mone}'  I "  exclaimed  Wilson.  "  All  that  you  have  must 
you  give  for  your  life." 

"  Take  all,  then,"  said  the  miser.  "  0,  the  day  that 
I  knew  you  was  an  unlucky  one  for  me  I  " 

A  lawyer  and  witnesses  were  immediately  called. 
Emboldened  by  their  presence,  the  covetous  old  man 
was  about  to  recant  vrhat  he  had  promised ;  but  a  glance 
from  the  terrible  eye  of  Wilson  intimidated  him ;  and, 
amid  sighs,  and  groans,  and  tears,  a  deed  of  gift  was  at 
length  wTitten,  which  made  Gertrude  Wilson  heiress  to 


68  THE    REBELS. 

his  large  fortune,  in  case  Edward  Percival  refused  to 
marry  her. 

A  long  and  earnest  conversation  respecting  the  chest 
of  silver  ensued;  and,  about  four  o'clock,  p.  m.,  an  up- 
right vehicle,  studded  with  brass  nails,  and  adorned  with 
wings  that  looked  like  anything  but  flying,  conveyed 
Mr.  Townsend  and  his  accomplice  to  the  dwelling  of 
the  "  spae  wife."  After  travelling  a  few  miles,  they 
turned  into  a  sequestered  path,  obviously  unfrequented. 
They  had  not  proceeded  far,  when  two  half-starved 
hounds  sprung  from  the  thicket,  and  set  up  a  most 
hideous  yell. 

"  Whist,  Mars  !  Down  with  you,  Hecate  !  "  exclaimed 
a  voice,  the  shrillness  of  which  alone  indicated  that  it 
came  from  woman. 

The  travellers  looked  toward  the  place  whence  the 
sound  proceeded,  and  saw  a  tall,  athletic  female,  clear- 
ing the  bushes,  and  coming  towards  them  with  rapid 
strides.  Her  masculine  figure,  of  such  uncommon  height 
and  rigid  outline ;  the  gray  hair,  that  hung  in  confused 
masses  about  her  haggard  countenance  ;  and  the  frenzied 
look  of  her  large  blue  eyes,  would  have  struck  the  stoutest 
heart  with  something  like  dread. 

When  asked  where  Molly  Bradstreet  resided,  she 
answered,  "  In  that  hut,  at  the  foot  of  Rattlesnake  Hill. 
What 's  your  want  ?     I  am  the  woman." 

She  looked  at  Wilson,  as  she  spoke,  with  an  expres- 
sion that  made  him  shudder.  Had  he  ever  knowTi  the 
strange  being,  he  would  have  thought  it  indicated  per- 
sonal hatred,  deep,  settled,  and  rancorous ;  and,  though 
he  was  sure  she  was  a  stranger,  and  that  he  could  not, 
of  course,  be  an  object  of  animosity,  that  look  haunted 


THE   REBELS.  69 

him,  for  days  after,  like  a  frightful  dream.  Recovering 
from  his  momentary  embarrassment,  he  briefly  explained 
his  errand. 

"  Follow  me,"  she  replied ;  "  but  you  must  leave  the 
horse  here.     You  '11  find  no  footing  for  the  beast." 

Complying  with  her  directions,  they  pursued  a  crooked 
path,  occasionally  intercepted  by  brake  and  briar,  until 
they  stood  before  the  wretched  hovel. 

"  Walk  in,"  said  she,  lowering  her  gigantic  stature,  as 
she  led  the  way.  "  What  questions  would  you  ask  ?  " 
she  added,  as  she  seated  herself  on  the  bed,  and  pointed 
to  a  rude  stool,  that  constituted  her  whole  furniture. 

"  Tell  us  what  we  come  for,"  said  the  old  miser. 
"  If  you  don't  know  that,  we  wont  give  you  a  copper." 

"  You  are  a  cunning  one,"  rejoined  she,  with  a  hollow 
laugh. 

After  learning  the  days  of  the  month  on  which  they 
were  born,  she  looked  in  an  almanac,  and  ascertained 
throuorh  what  sigri  the  sun  was  then  travellinof,  marked 
it  do\^^i,  pressed  her  hand  against  her  forehead  for  a  few 
moments,  and  then  carefully  examined  two  large,  dirty 
folios,  covered,  within  and  without,  with  strange  and 
apparently  unintelligible  characters.  Some  tea-grounds 
were  next  deposited  in  a  cup,  which  Wilson  was  ordered 
silently  to  whirl  round  three  times  three. .  This  opera- 
tion being  performed  with  the  most  portentous  solem- 
nity, she  looked  alternately  at  the  cup  and  the  books, 
till  Wilson,  weary  of  the  process,  exclaimed,  "  What 
answer,  woman  ?  " 

"  There  is  gold,  hidden  gold !  "  responded  the  oracle. 

Mr.  Townsend,  who  had,  from  the  beginning,  been 
the  personification  of  extreme  fear,  now  stole  toward  the 


70  THE    REBELS. 

door,  muttering,  "  She  has  to  do  with  the  spirits  of 
darkness  !  " 

The  sybil  grinned,  and  showed  her  loosened,  yellow 
teeth. 

"  What  more,  witch  ?  "  said  the  impatient  Wilson. 

"  Witch  !  "  echoed  she,  with  a  malignant  scowl. 

"  Mrs.  Bradstreet,  then,"  said  the  inquirer,  in  a  more 
soothing  tone. 

"  In  your  cup,  there  is  crime,"  she  cried.  "  Here  is 
the  corpse  of  a  woman,  whom  you  would  give  worlds  to 
see  alive,  and  beautiful,  and  innocent,  as  she  was  before 
she  knew  you." 

A  withering  glance  accompanied  these  words,  and 
Wilson,  springing  forward,  shook  her,  in  the  intensity 
of  his  anxiety  and  rage.  "  Hag !  where  did  you  learn 
that  ?  "  shouted  he. 

With  strength  that  almost  equalled  his  own,  she  threw 
him  from  her,  and  replied,  with  affected  calmness,  "I 
have  read  to  you  what  the  fates  have  written,  —  nothing 
more." 

Ashamed  of  having  thus  betrayed  himself,  he  asked 
her  to  proceed. 

"I  tell  you  there  is  blood  in  the  cup,"  said  she. 
"  Your  riffht  arm  hath  been  familiar  with  the  sword,  and 
the  pistol  has  not  been  quiet  in  your  hand.  Good  luck 
is  near  you  now,  and  it  comes  in  the  form  of  a  wedding- 
ring  ;  but  the  circle  of  fortune  is  broken  before  it  reaches 
the  centre  of  the  cup,  and  tears  lie  at  the  bottom.  A 
death  of  agony  is  not  far  distant." 

Without  answering  a  word,  the  person  to  whom  she 
had  spoken  walked  to  the  door,  and  breathed  the  fresh 
air,  as  if  he  needed  its  strengthening  influence;   for, 


THE    REBELS.  71 

though  ashamed  of  his  weakness,  he  could  not  but  give 
his  reluctant  faith  to  a  being  who  had  thus  unaccount- 
ably read  his  blood-stained  page  of  life.  With  a  trem- 
bling hand,  the  miser  took  the  cup,  and  performed  the 
mystic  ceremony. 

"  There  is  but  little  to  tell  you,  sir,"  said  the  witch. 
"You  have  loved  gold,  and  gained  it,  —  and  you  will 
keep  it  till  you  die.  A  sword  hangs  over  your  head ; 
but  it  will  not  drop.  Your  sand  is  almost  run  out,  and 
until  the  last  grain  is  shaken  through,  your  deeds  will 
be  kept  secret." 

"  Let  us  go  hence,"  said  Mr.  TowTisend,  as  he  stag- 
gered toward  the  door ;  *'  for,  if  ever  the  wicked  one 
was  in  human  shape  — " 

"  But  what  of  the  money  ? "  inquired  Wilson. 

"  There  is  money  hid,"  was  the  laconic  answer. 

"  And  how  is  it  to  be  found  ?  " 

"  If  the  sea-robber  buried  it,  let  three,  or  nine,  or  fif- 
teen men,  seek  for  it.  He  who  bears  the  witch-hazel 
rod  must  carry  it  upright  till  it  bows  down  in  spite  of 
his  strength.  At  that  spot  let  them  dig ;  and  let  not 
a  word  be  spoken  within  hearing  of  it.  Perhaps  the 
meeting  of  two  shadows,  at  twelve  o'clock,  may  mark 
the  place ;  for  the  pirates  were  ever  particular  about 
that.  Every  man  must  fasten  a  Bible  on  his  neck  with 
a  silken  cord.  If  none  speak,  within  a  circle  of  nine 
yards,  you  '11  find  the  treasure." 

Wilson  laid  two  Spanish  dollars  on  the  table. 

"  It  is  too  much,"  said  the  covetous  old  man,  seizing" 
hold  of  one  of  them.     "  Breath  costs  nothing." 

"Don't  it?"  said   the  wrinkled  dame,  forcing  open 


72  THE    REBELS. 

I 

the  skinny  fingers  that  had  closed  over  the  money. 
"  You  will  think  it  is  worth  more,  two  months  hence." 

"Farewell,  witch,"  said  Wilson,  who  had  recovered 
the  bold  and  savage  manner  most  natural  to  him. 

*«  Farewell,"  muttered  she,  as  they  plunged  into  the 
thicket;  "and  take  an  old  mother's  curse.  I  know  ye 
well,  though  you  know  not  me." 

A  savage  exultation  hghted  up  her  eyes  for  a  moment, 
and  she  shook  her  head  toward  them,  as  she  added,  "I  '11 
have  my  revenge  I " 


CHAPTER    VII. 

His  peculiar  manner  and  power  arose  from  an  energy*  of  soul,  which 
nature  could  give,  but  which  no  human  being  could  justly  copy, 

Wirt. 

On  the  ensuing  Sabbath,  Somerville  joined  the  young- 
ladies,  on  their  way  to  Hollis-street.  The  crowd  pre- 
sented a  strange  contrast  to  the  congregations  of  the 
present  day.  Here  and  there,  a  taper-waisted  damsel, 
glittering  in  embroidered  brocade,  with  flowers  even 
larger  than  life,  while  close  by  her  side  walked  the 
dandy  of  that  period,  with  bright  red  waistcoat,  leather 
small-clothes,  and  enormous  buckles  sparkling  in  the  sun. 
Then  followed  a  humble  dame,  with  rustle  gown  and 
checked  apron,  leading  a  reluctant  urchin,  stumbling 
along  with  his  little  three-cornered  scraper  ;  the  tears  still 
trickling  doun  his  cheeks,  forced  from  him  by  the  pain- 
ful operation  of  being  shoved  and  shaken  into  his  tight 
breeches  for  the  first  time.  In  the  rear  came  an  older 
boy,  alternatel}?-  casting  an  envious  eye  on  the  trim  little 
fellow  before  him,  and  a  despairing  glance  at  his  own 
clothes,  vrhich,  drenched  by  repeated  rains,  hung  in  slov- 
enly folds  about  his  ankles. 

Among  this  motley  group  was  one  individual,   who 

entirely  arrested  Lucretia's  attention.     She  walked  before 

them  with  a  most  masculine  stride,  and  ever  and  anon 

cast  back   an  anxious,    earnest  look,  as  she  muttered, 

7 


74  THE    REBELS. 

"  Ay,  as  good  as  the  proudest ;  thanks  to  a  poor  old 
woman  she  never  dreams  of." 

"  Some  insane  creature,  I  imagine,"  observed  Somer- 
ville. 

Lucretia  thought  so,  too;  but  the  expression  of  her 
face  haunted  her  imagination ;  and  she  was  unable  to 
dispei  the  charm,  until  she  had  vainly  searched  around 
the  church  for  the  singular  apparition. 

Eager  and  respectful  attention  characterized  the 
whole  audience. 

There  was  nothing  in  the  appearance  of  this  extraor- 
dinar}''  man  which  would  lead  you  to  suppose  that  a 
Felix  would  tremble  before  him.  He  was  something 
above  the  middle  stature,  well  proportioned,  and  remark- 
able for  a  native  gracefulness  of  manner.  His  complex- 
ion was  very  fair,  his  features  regular,  and  his  dark-blue 
eyes  small  and  lively :  in  recovering  from  the  measles, 
he  had  contracted  a  squint  with  one  of  them ;  but  this 
peculiarity  rather  rendered  the  expression  of  his  counte- 
nance more  rememberable,  than  in  any  degree  lessened 
the  effect  of  its  uncommon  sweetness.  His  voice  excelled, 
both  in  melody  and  compass ;  and  its  fine  modulations 
were  happily  accompanied  by  that  gi'ace  of  action  which 
he  possessed  in  an  eminent  degree,  and  which  has  been 
said  to  be  the  chief  requisite  of  an  orator.  To  have  seen 
him  when  he  first  commenced,  one  would  have  thought 
him  anything  but  enthusiastic  and  glowing ;  but,  as  he 
proceeded,  his  heart  warmed  with  his  subject,  and  his 
manner  became  impetuous  and  animated,  till,  forgetful 
of  everything  around  him,  he  seemed  to  kneel  at  the 
throne  of  Jehovah,  and  to  beseech  in  agony  for  his  fellow- 
beings. 


THE    REBELS.  75 

After  he  had  finished  his  prayer,  he  kneh  for  a  long 
time  in  profound  silence  ;  and  so  powerfully  had  it  affect- 
ed the  most  heartless  of  his  audience,  that  a  stillness 
like  that  of  the  tomb  pervaded  the  whole  house. 

Before  he  commenced  his  sermon,  long,  darkening- 
columns  crowded  the  bright  sunny  sk^'  of  the  morning, 
and  swept  their  dull  shadows  over  the  building,  in  fear- 
ful augury  of  the  storm. 

His  text  was  :  "  Strive  to  enter  in  at  the  strait  gate  ; 
for  many,  I  say  unto  you,  shall  seek  to  enter  in,  and 
shall  not  be  able." 

"  See  that  emblem  of  human  life,"  said  he,  as  he 
pointed  to  a  shadow  that  was  flitting  across  the  floor. 
"  It  passed  for  a  moment,  and  concealed  the  brightness 
of  Heaven  from  our  view  —  but  it  is  gone.  And  where 
will  ye.  be,  my  hearers,  when  your  lives  have  passed 
away,  like  that  dark  cloud  ?  O,  my  dear  friends,  I  see 
thousands  sitting  attentive,  with  their  eyes  fixed  on  the 
poor,  unworthy  preacher.  In  a  few  days,  w^e  shall  all 
meet  at  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ.  We  shall  form  a 
part  of  that  vast  assembly  which  will  gather  before  his 
throne ;  and  every  eye  will  behold  the  Judge.  With  a 
voice  whose  call  you  must  abide  and  answ€r,  he  will 
inquire  w^hether  on  earth  ye  strove  to  enter  in  at  the 
strait  gate  —  whether  you  were  supremely  devoted  to 
God  —  whether  your  hearts  were  absorbed  in  Him.  My 
blood  runs  cold  when  I  think  how  many  of  you  will  then 
seek  to  enter  in,  and  shall  not  be  able.  O,  what  plea 
can  you  make  before  the  Judge  of  the  whole  earth  ?  Can 
you  say  it  has  been  your  whole  endeavor  to  mortify  the 
flesh,  with  its  affections  and  lusts  ?  That  your  life  has 
been  one  long  effort  to  do  the  will  of  God  ?    No !  you 


76  THE    REBELS. 

» 

must  answer,  I  made  myself  easy  in  the  world,  by  flat- 
tering myself  that  all  would  end  well;  but  I  have 
deceived  my  o\vn  soul,  and  am  lost. 

"You,  oh  false  and  hollow  Christian — of  what  avail 
will  it  be  that  you  have  done  many  things  —  that  you  have 
read  much  in  the  sacred  word  —  that  you  have  made 
long  pmyers  —  that  you  have  attended  religious  duties, 
and  appeared  holy  in  the  eyes  of  men  ?  What  will  all 
this  be,  if,  instead  of  loving  Him  supremely,  you  have 
been  supposing  you  should  exalt  yourself  in  heaven,  by 
acts  really  polluted  and  unholy  ? 

"  And  you,  rich  man,  wherefore  do  you  hoard  your  sil- 
ver? Wherefore  count  the  price  you  have  received  for 
him  whom  you  ever}"  day  crucify,  in  your  love  of  gain  ? 
Why,  that  when  you  are  too  poor  to  buy  a  drop  of  cold 
water,  your  beloved  son  may  be  rolled  to  hell  in  his  char- 
iot, pillowed  and  cushioned  about  him  I " 

His  eye  gradually  lighted  up,  as  he  proceeded,  till, 
towards  the  close,  it  seemed  to  sparkle  with  celestial  fire. 

"  0,  sinners  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  By  all  your  hopes  of 
happiness,  I  beseech  you  to  repent  I  Let  not  the  A\Tath 
of  God  be  awakened  !  Let  not  the  fires  of  eternity  be 
kindled  against  you  !  See  there  !  "  said  he,  pointing  to 
the  lightning  which  played  on  the  corner  of  the  pulpit. 
"  'T  is  a  glance  from  the  angr}"  eye  of  Jehovah  !  Hark!  " 
continued  he,  raising  his  finger,  in  a  listening  attitude,  as 
the  distant  thunder  grew  louder  and  louder,  and  broke 
in  one  tremendous  crash  over  the  building.  "It  was  the 
voice  of  the  Almighty,  as  he  passed  b)?-  in  his  anger ! " 

As  the  sound  died  away,  he  covered  his  face  with  his 
hands,  and  knelt  beside  his  pulpit,  apparently  lost  in 
inward  and  intense  prayer.     The  storm  passed  rapidly 


THE    REBELS.  77 

by,  and  the  sun,  bursting  forth  in  his  might,  threw 
across  the  heavens  a  magnificent  arch  of  peace.  Rising, 
and  pointing  to  the  beautiful  object,  he  exclaimed,  "Look 
upon  the  rainbow  I  and  praise  him  that  made  it.  Very 
beautiful  it  is,  in  the  brightness  thereof.  It  compasseth 
the  heavens  about  with  glor}' ;  and  the  hands  of  the 
Most  High  have  bended  it." 

The  effect  was  astonishing.  Even  Somen'ille  shaded 
his  eyes  when  he  pointed  to  the  lightning,  and  knelt  as 
he  Hstened  to  the  approaching  thunder ;  —  while  the 
deep  sensibility  of  Grace,  and  the  thoughtless  vivacity 
of  Lucretia,  yielded  to  the  powerful  excitement,  in  an 
unrestrained  burst  of  tears. 

"  Who  could  resist  such  eloquence  ?"  said  Lucretia,  as 
they  mingled  with  the  departing  throng. 

"I  should  think  no  one  who  had  a  human  heart,'* 
answered  Somer\-ille.  "  It  is  as  resistless  as  it  is  untu- 
tored. I  was  never  before  so  completely  aware  of  my 
own  nothingness  —  never  so  forcibly  reminded  that  I 
was  a  mere  drop  in  the  vast  ocean  of  existence." 

"  Some  doubt  ]Mr.  "Whitfield's  talents,  as  well  as  his 
piety,"  rejoined  Lucretia ;  "  but  after  what  I  have  wit- 
nessed this  morning,  I  shall  never  distrust  the  sincerity 
of  his  enthusiastic  devotion.  The  heart  that  could  dic- 
tate such  lanoTiage  must  have  been  bathed  in  the  foun- 
tains  of  life.  Who  that  had  heard  him  to-day  could 
think  of  him  as  a  lad  of  fifteen,  making  mops,  washing 
floors,  and  taking  care  of  horses,  at  an  inn  ?" 

"  Yet,  young  as  he  then  was,"  replied  Somer\-ille,  "  it 
is  said  the  singular  boy  found  leisure,  amid  his  servile 
employments,  to  read  Thomas  a  Kempis,  and  to  write 
two  or  three  sermons." 

7# 


78  THE    REBELS. 

"It  is  but  another  proof  that  genius  will  find  its 
upward  way,  whatever  obstacles  may  lie  in  its  path," 
said  Lucretia.  "  You  have  promised  to  join  us  at  Mr. 
Osborne's  church,  this  afternoon,  you  know.  ;  You  will 
there  hear  preaching  of  a  different  kind ;  but  I  do  not 
think  the  contrast  will  prove  unfavorable  to  my  friend." 

Grace,  usually  silent  and  timid,  said  nothing;  but  her 
beautiful  eyelashes  were  still  impearled  with  tears,  and 
her  sweet  face  was  radiant  with  pleasure  v»'hen  she 
heard  the  allusion  to  her  father. 

Mr.  Osborne's  eloquence  was,  as  they  had  anticipated, 
a  perfect  contrast  to  that  of  Mr.. Whitfield.  He,  to.o, 
seemed  to  feel  the  importance  of  his  subject,  and  often 
rose  to  majestic  fervor,  when  urging  it  upon  his  hearers. 
He  never  appeared  to  them  invested  in  the  sublimity  of 
wrathful  denunciation,  —  but  he  entreated  them,  with  all 
the  earnestness  of  a  father,  to  kneel  at  the  Saviour's  feet, 
and  lay  their  burthens  there. 

The  Quaker  poet  has  described,  in  one  powerful  line, 
the  sensations  excited  by  the  first  view  of  the  stormy 
ocean,  with  the  boundless  canopy  of  heaven  above  it, 
and  its  frightful  barrier  of  rocks  and  precipices. 

"  My  spirit  was  mute,  in  the  presence  of  power !  " 

Mr.  Whitfield's  eloquence  left  a  similar  impression  on 
the  soul ;  but  Mr.  Osborne  was  like  a  calm,  deep  river, 
reflecting  the  light  of  heaven  with  mildness  and  splen- 
dor. The  first  left  the  sensitive  heart  of  Grace  in  a 
state  of  painfulness,  almost  amounting  to  anguish ;  from 
the  latter,  she  returned  to  kneel  at  the  bed-side,  with 
involuntary  devotion,  as  she  said,  "  Father  in  heaven, 
let  me  be  guided  in  all  things  by  thee  I "     Without  ever 


THE    REBELS.  79 

talking  of  religion,  or  pretending  to  more  piety  than  her 
associates,  Grace  well  understood  this  delightful  state  of 
internal  resignation.  It  was  not  because  she  so  often 
heard  her  father  speak  on  the  subject.  Young  as  she 
was,  experience  had  taught  her  that  nothing  else  could 
exalt  every  feeling  into  the  region  of  pure,  ethereal  tran- 
quillity, and  leave  no  void  in  the  heart.  Lucretia  had 
more  quickness  of  feeling,  but  less  depth ;  and  she  pos- 
sessed a  laro-e  share  of  that  freedom  of  thouo^ht,  that 
boldness  of  investigation,  which  renders  exalted  talents 
a  peculiarly  dangerous  gift.  Such  minds,  while  they 
proudly. avoid  the  shoals  of  superstition,  are  too  apt  to  be 
WTecked  on  the  rocks  of  scepticism.  The  same  faculties 
which  open  the  hidden  causes  and  effects  of  nature  to 
our  view,  will  not  guide  us  aright,  when  studying  into 
the  state  of  the  soul,  and  the  nature  of  its  future  exist- 
ence. There  is  a  point  where  "the  divinity  within" 
peremptorily  says,  "  Here  shall  thy  proud  waves  be 
stayed."  Very  few  have  groped  about  the  veil  which 
separates  revealed  religion  from  its  internal  mysteries, 
until  they  have  become  enveloped  in  the  thick  folds  of 
its  draper}',  without,  at  times,  wishing  for  the  simple, 
undoubting  faith  of  the  ignorant.  Indeed,  there  never 
was  a  soul,  however  cold  in  its  speculations,  however 
wild  and  irregular  in  its  passions,  that  has  not  felt  the 
calm  influence  of  devotion  stealing  over  it,  like  the 
delicious  breathings  of  distant  music.  Such  impressions 
were  now  vivid  in  the  mind  of  Lucretia ;  but  it  was  her 
fault,  that  religion  was  the  offspring  of  excitement,  and 
the  sport  of  impulse.  Its  power  was  as  transitory  as  it 
was  entire ;  and  before  she  retired  to  rest,  she  had  for- 
gotten everything  but  Somerville.     He  had  invited  the 


80  THE    REBELS. 

ladies  to  an  evening  sail  in  the  harbor,  and  promised 
that  the  plan  should  be  carried  into  execution  before  the 
week  had  expired.  To  think  of  his  looks,  expressions, 
the  very  tones  of  his  voice,  furnished  ample  food  for  her 
imagination,  during  the  interim;  for,  in  a  heart  that  loves 
as  youth  and  genius  are  too  apt  to  love,  the  progress  of 
affection  nearly  equals  the  rapidity  of  light. 


*.», 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

Such  as  I  am,  all  true  lovers  are  ; 
Unstaid  and  skittish  in  all  motions  else, 
Save  in  the  constant  image  of  the  creature 
That  is  beloved.  Twelfth  Night. 

The  proposed  sail  was  unavoidably  deferred  until  the 
9th  of  September,  during  which  time  our  young  friends 
were  almost  constantly  together.  The  night  chosen  for 
the  expedition  was  rich  in  autumnal  beaut}'.  It  was  one 
of  those  calm,  delightful  evenings,  when  the  soul  bathes 
itself  in  stillness,  and  thoughts  pure  as  an  infant's 
dreams  come  crowding  on  the  heart.  Nature,  like  an 
oriental  beauty,  seemed  to  repose  on  her  masriificent 
couch,  amid  the  sparkling  and  bubbling  of  fountains,  the 
perfume -of  flowers,  and  the  varied  witcherj'  of  music. 
At  such  seasons,  the  chords  of  feeHng  are  lightly 
touched,  as  if  fanned  by  the  wings  of  some  passing 
seraph,  and  they  vibrate  only  to  what  is  calm  and  holy. 
Selfishness,  prejudice,  and  passion,  have  no  entrance 
there ;  and  man  is,  for  a  while,  what  God  designed  him, 
—  a  rich-toned  instrument,  thriUed  by  the  sHghtest  influ- 
ence of  heaven.  This  capacity  for  refined  "pleasure 
exists,  more  or  less,  in  ever)'  mind,  —  not  like  the  Apol- 
los  and  Dianas,  which  Aristotle  supposed  to  be  concealed 
in  the  unhevsm  marble,  waiting  for  art  to  fashion  them ; 
but  like  music  of  the  ■v^'inds,  waked  by  the  faintest  breath 
into  an  existence  as  delicious  as  it  is  fleeting.     But, 


82  THE    REBELS. 

though  all  may  worship  at  the  shrine  of  nature,  it  is  not 
given  to  every  one  to  enter  the  holy  of  holies,  and  with- 
draw the  veil.  Such  souls  as  Lucretia's  alone  can  feel 
the  full  force  of  its  softening  and  mysterious  power. 
Her  mind,  vigorous  as  an  eagle's  wing,  and  rapid  as  the 
streams  of  Chili,  had  been, early  left  to  her  own  guid- 
ance. Under  such  circumstances,  imagination  had 
become  her  favorite  region ;  but  the  glowing  clim.ate  that 
brought  the  weeds  to  rank  luxuriance  did  not  scorch  the 
beauty  of  the  flowers.  She  was  wont  to  examine  every- 
thing in  the  illusive  kaleidoscope  of  fancj^,  which  fonns 
broken  glass  and  tinselled  fragments  into  as  beautiful 
and  regular  combinations  as  polished  diamonds  and 
pearls  bedded  in  gold.  Had  nature  only  been  seen 
under  this  bright  delusion,  it  would  have  been  well.  ■  It 
was  no  hanii  that  the  mighty  cavalcade  of  worlds, 
wheeling  through  the  desert  realms  of  space ;  the  hills, 
in  their  broad  and  mellow  sunshine ;  the  rivers,  laughing 
and  leaping  in  their  joyous  course ;  and  the  western  sky, 
warmly  blushing  at  the  bright  glance  of  her  departing 
lover,  should  speak  to  her  a  language  deeper  than 
poetry :  but  at  that  susceptible  age,  when  the  affections 
are  fully  developed  while  the  judgment  remains  in 
embryo,  more  dangerous  objects  are  often  invested  with 
the  rainbow-robe  of  romance.  In  our  maturer  years,  we 
laugh  at  the  eager  hopes  and  intense  fears  of  3'outhful 
love ;  but  ridicule  cannot  disarm  the  mischievous  power, 
and  intellect  frequently  struggles  in  chains  which  it  can- 
not burst.  To  search  out  all  the  involutions  of  a 
woman's  heart,  —  to  describe  all  its  fluctuations,  from 
embarrassed  consciousness,  to  friendship  apparently  care- 
less, or  tenderness  poorly  disguised,  —  would  be  more 


THE    REBELS,  83 

difficult  than  to  trace  the  intri^es  of  statesmen,  or  the  rise 
and  fall  of  empires ;  and  were  the  task  well  performed,  it 
^yould  make  a  very  silly  appearance  in  print.  Suffice  it, 
therefore,  to  say,  that  the  burthen  was  sufficiently  hea\y 
to  the  foolish  heart  which  carried  it ;  and  that  Lucretia 
joined  the  evening  party  with  no  small  portion  of  sad- 
ness. Grace,  likewise,  came  with  Vv'ounded  delicacy  and 
conflicting-  feelings.  Not  that  her  better  disciplined 
mind  yielded  to  the  infatuation  which  held  such  undi- 
vided sway  over  her  impetuous  friend ;  but  her  shrinldng 
modesty  was  alarmed,  lest  others  should  suppose  it  so. 

Somemlle  had  read  the  "Rape  of  the  Lock"  to  hex 
and  Lucretia,  and  had  afterwards  presented  her  with  the 
elegant  little  volume.  All  the  passages  he  admired  were 
marked  with  a  pencil,  his  observations  \\Titten  in  the 
margin,  and  the  book  carefully  placed  in  a  small  ebony 
writinsf-desk,  to  which  her  brother  alone  had  access. 
Henry  had  most  unfortunately  left  the  drawer  open 
when  his  friend  came  to  make  arrangements  for  their 
aquatic  excursion.  He  discovered  all,  before  Grace 
entered,  —  and  the  liquid  radiance,  for  which  his  eye 
was  remarkable,  expressed  unrestrained  tenderness  and 
exultation. 

Pride,  delicacy,  feelings  as  yet  without  a  name,  in 
short,  everything  that  could  create  a  tempest  in  woman's 
heart,  was  at  once  active.  Face,  neck  and  hands,  were 
covered  with  blushes,  —  but  her  reception  was  formal 
even  to  coldness ;  and  in  a  few  moments  she  retired  to 
her  owTi  room.  There  she  succeeded  in  believino;  that 
respect  for  Somerville's  talents  had  alone  influenced  her 
conduct;  and  her  only  fear  was,  that  he  would  not  be 
quite  so  sure  of  it  as  herself.     The  novice  reasoned  well, 


84  THE    REBELS. 

and  resolved  well ;  —  nevertheless,  the  blind  guest  had 
gained  admittance,  unbidden  and  unknown,  with  a  wed- 
ding-garment stainless  as  the  drifted  snow. 

To  convince  Somerville  that  she  really  valued  him 
only  as  her  brother's  friend,  Grace  resolved  to  treat  him 
with  marked  indifference.  Accordingly,  when  the  boat 
was  drawn  up  to  the  wharf,  she  passed  him,  and  gave 
her  hand  to  Doctor  Willard.  For  an  instant  a  deep  froA\Ti 
settled  on  the  brov/  of  the  young  Englishman,  but  it 
immediately  passed  away ;  and,  giving  his  hand  to 
Lucretia,  he  sprang  into  the  boat,  and  seated  himself  by 
her  side.  Henry  Osborne,  ever  mindful  of  those  ladies 
whose  claims  were  the  least,  offered  his  services  to  Miss 
Sandford ;  and  Doctor  Byles  came  after,  saying  aloud, 

"  The  king  himself  hath  followed  her,  — 
When  she  has  walked  before." 

There  was  an  abundance  of  mirth,  whether  heartfelt 
or  not.  Miss  Sandford  was  in  good  humor  with  herself 
and  all  the  world  (Doctor  Byles  always  excepted) ;  and, 
having  a  good  stock  of  sense,  and  a  talent  at  repartee, 
she  by  no  means  diminished  the  pleasure  of  the  party. 
As  for  Doctor  Byles,  the  fountain  of  his  wit  was  never 
known  to  be  dry,  though  sage  advice  and  dignified 
admonition  were  frequently  mingled  with  its  playful 
brilliancy  or  pungent  sarcasm.  Henry  Osborne  pre- 
served his  usual  calm,  unostentatious,  but  perfectly 
delightful  manner.  Doctor  Willard,  enthusiastic,  and 
easily  excited,  made  no  attempt  to  conceal  the  happi- 
ness which  Miss  Osborne's  unwonted  kindness  inspired. 
Somerville  talked  with  unusual  volubility,  and  surpassed 
even  his  own  accustomed  gallantry.     Grace  with  diffi- 


THE    REBELS.  85 

culty  forced  back  her  tears,  yet  she  appeared  uncom- 
monly cheerful ;  —  while  the  flushed  cheek,  the  spark- 
ling- eye,  and  the  unconscious  deference  of  all  Lucretia's 
looks  and  actions,  betrayed  the  subtle  power  that  pro- 
duced them.  The  helmsman  completed  the  group; 
and,  to  have  judged  by  his  antiquated  dress,  his  gray 
hairs,  his  closely  fitted  cap,  his  sonorous  voice,  and  his 
coarse  but  strongly  marked  features,  one  would  have  sup- 
posed that  Brewster  or  Standish  was  guiding  his  rude 
skiff  in  the  unfrequented  bay  of  Plymouth. 

As  they  passed  "  the  gay  young  group  of  grassy 
islands"  which  decorate  our  beautiftd  harbor,  Lucretia 
observed,  "  How  very  lovely  these  little  spots  appear, 
where  the  moon  gleams  through  the  dense  shade,  and 
tinges  the  water  with  its  brightness!  " 

"  It  is  like  the  smile  on  the  face,  when  the  heart  is  cold 
and  breaking,"  said  Grace. 

"  A  metaphor  from  the  lips  of  Grace  Osborne,  as  I 
live  !  "  exclaimed  Lucretia. 

'•  You  know  what  is  the  boon  inspirer  of  poetry," 
rejoined  Somerville,  looking  very  archly  at  Miss  Os- 
borne. 

He  was  thinking  of  Doctor  Willard,  when  he  spoke  ; 
but  Grace,  with  a  readiness  that  consciousness  could 
alone  have  produced,  saw  nothing  but  vanity  and  rude- 
ness in  the  insinuation. 

An  angry  suffusion  passed  over  her  pale  brow,  and 
she  hastily  turned  to  talk  with  the  young  physician.  In 
the  evening  light  her  confusion  passed  unnoticed  by 
Lucretia,  who  continued  all  exhilaration  and  romance. 
She  pointed  out  the  tangled  constellation  of  Berenice, 
the  brilliant  beauty  of  Altair,  and  the  royal  circle  of  the 

8 


86  THE    REBELS. 

Corona  Borealis.  Then  she  talked  of  the  graceful  gay- 
ety  of  Chaucer,  the  melodious  versification  of  Pope,  and 
the  witching  simplicity  of  Goldsmith. 

Her  want  of  beauty  was  forgotten  in  her  unaffected 
eloquence  ;  and  Somerville  looked  at  her  with  unfeigned 
admiration,  as  he  said,  "  What  a  pity  you  had  not  lived 
in  the  days  of  chivalry.  Miss  Fitzherbert !  How  many 
lances  would  have  been  lowered  before  the  majesty  of  — 
mind!" 

"  I  think  Miss  Fitzherbert  will  prefer  what  she  will  be 
sure  to  receive  at  the  present  day,"  said  Henry  Osborne. 
"I  mean  the  homage  due  to  a  rational  being  —  that 
homage  which  mind  exacts  from  the  intellectual,  and 
genuine  goodness  of  heart  from  those  who  know  how  to 
value  it." 

"  A  very  wise  lecture,  and  very  w^ll  delivered,  Mr. 
Osborne,"  replied  Somerville,  bowing  towards  him,  with 
a  very  comic  expression  ;  "  but,  after  all,  I  only  wish  I 
were  a  constellation,  that  I  might  be  described  with  such 
delio-htful  enthusiasm." 

"  You  always  are,  when  in  the  presence  of  ladies," 
rejoined  Doctor  Willard. 

"  Then  he  must  be  the  Lyre,"  said  Doctor  Byles. 

"  Captain  Somerville,"  said  the  aged  steersman,  "  I 
trust  you  will  have  grace  given  you —  " 

"  If  I  guess  aright,  you  could  not  have  wished  a  thing 
more  to  his  mind,"  interrupted  the  witty  clergyman. 

Miss  Osborne  blushed  deeply,  and  the  smile  on  Lucre- 
tia's  face  was  stiff  and  unnatural. 

The  pilot  continued :  "  I  trust  you  will  have  grace 
enough,  before  you  die,  to  relish  the  savory  discourses 


THE    REBELS.  S7 

of  wisdom,  rather  than  the  light  conversation  that  apper- 
taineth  to  this  world." 

"  An  excellent  though  heretical  wTiter  hath  told  us," 
observed  Doctor  Byles,  "  that  piety  is  like  certain  lamps 
of  old,  which  maintained  their  light  for  ages  under  ground, 
but,  as  soon  as  they  took  air,  expired.  It  is  a  doctrine 
that  the  New  Lights  forget,  my  friend,  though  it  seems 
the  old  lights  acted  it  out,  generation  after  generation." 

"  If  we  are  to  keep  our  religion  locked  up  from  others, 
what  do  you  make  of  the  command,  '  Let  your  light  so 
shine  before  men  '  ?  "  asked  the  pilot. 

"  If  I  read  Scripture  aright,  that  is  the  light  of  good 
works,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Very  true,"  rejoined  the  old  man ;  "  and  therefore 
we  should  strive  to  attain  to  perfect  holiness." 

"  Perfect  holiness  I "  exclaimed  the  clerm^man.  "  You 
might  as  well  talk  of  such  a  coin  as  a  pound  sterling,  or 
a  French  livre." 

"  I  don't  understand  what  you  mean  touching  the 
comparison,"  answered  the  steersman  ;  "  but  I  will  never 
sell  my  reason  to  any  man,  because  he  happens  to  be 
more  lariit  than  I  am." 

"  If  you  should  set  it  up  at  auction,  it  would  be  a  poor 
pennyworth  to  him  that  bought  it,"  observed  the  rev- 
erend doctor.  "  However,  you  are  made  for  your  place, 
and  I  for  mine.  Some  must  think,  and  some  must 
labor;  some  must  rule,  and  some  must  be  ruled.  For 
instance,  young  men.  Governors  Bernard  and  Hutchin- 
son are  born  to  command,  and  you  are  born  to  obey." 

"  Then  I  shall  fail  in  answering  the  end  for  which  I 
was  made,"  rejoined  Doctor  Willard.     "What  difference 


88  THE    REBELS. 

is  between  the  duke  and  I  ?  No  more  than  between 
two  bricks,  all  made  of  one  clay ;  only  it  may  be  one  is 
placed  on  the  top  of  a  turret,  the  other  in  the  bottom  of 
a  well,  by  mere  chance.  If  I  were  placed  as  high  as  the 
duke,  I  should  stick  as  fast,  make  as  fair  a  show,  and 
bear  out  weather  equally." 

"  0  dear,"  exclaimed  Doctor  Byles,  "  I  am  in  a  sad 
predicament,  betw^een  new  lights  and  new"  fires  !  One, 
nailing  heresy  with  a  text,  and  the  other  sanctioning 
treason  with  the  odd  ends  of  a  play." 

*'  I  tell  you  what,  Doctor  Byles,"  said  the  pilot,  "  some 
folks  do  say  you  are  a  good  man ;  and  them  who  know 
you  tell  that  you  have  more  religion  than  you  seem  to 
have.  If  so  be  this  be  true,  you  can't  in  earnest  deny 
that  the  New  Lights  and  the  Quakers  are  the  only  people 
that  have  '  put  off  the  old  man.'  " 

"  I  don't  know  how  far  they  have  put  off  the  old 
man,"  rejoined  the  minister;  "but  of  one  thing  lam 
certain,  —  they  keep  his  deeds.  Since  New  Lights  are 
so  numerous,  it  is  desirable  we  should  have  more  new 
livers  ;  aixd  as  for  the  Quakers,  '  they  come  to  the  Gos- 
pel, not  as  law,  but  as  a  market,  cheapen  what  they  like 
best,  and  leave  the  rest  for  other  customers.'  " 

"  The  book  where  you  found  that  likewise  tells  you 
that  '  some  people  think  their  zeal  lukewarm,  unless  it 
reduce  their  charity  to  ashes,'  "  retorted  Miss  Sandford. 

"  '  One  man  among  a  thousand  have  I  found ;  but  a 
woman  among  all  those  have  I  not  found,'  complains 
Solomon ;  and  he  complains  with  reason,"  said  Doctor 
BN'les.  "  What  have  you  to  do  with  subjects  above  your 
understanding,  Madam  Sandford?" 

"  Above   my   understanding  I  "    echoed  the  offended 


THE    REBELS.  89 

maiden.  "  I  can  tell  you  I  began  the  controversy  with 
zeal,  and  stuck  to  it  with  perseverance." 

"Ay,  no  doubt  you  stuck  like  a  fly  in  a  glue-pot," 
retorted  the  doctor.  "  Forward  you  could  not  stir,  by 
reason  of  weakness;  and  the  subject-matter  was  too 
thick  for  you  to  dive  into." 

"  Heard  ever  anybody  the  like  of  that  ? "  said  Miss 
Sandford.  *'  There  is  no  use  in  talking  with  you,  Doctor 
Byles  ;  but  tell  me,  in  earnest,  what  can  you  prove  against 
the  Quakers  ?  " 

"  I  know  the  secret  of  your  taking  up  in  their  de- 
fence," answered  the  doctor.  "  There  was  a  friend 
Isaac,  or  a  friend  Jacob,  that  once  spoke  soft  words  to 
thee,  and  told  thee  that  thy  voice  was  more  pleasant  to 
him  than  the  sound  of  rivulets,  —  yea,  than  the  voice  of 
spring ;  and  you  never  could  be  grateful  enough  to  him 
for  the  unexampled  favor." 

"True,  there  was — " 

"  Well,  I  don't  w^ant  to  hear  the  story.  Tell  it  to 
those  who  believe  in  love  and  ghosts.  What  do  I  know 
of  the  Quakers  ?  Have  n't  I  attended  their  meetings  ?  I 
once  heard  a  wise  thing  there.  After  having  sat  a  long 
time,  and  said  nothing,  one  was  moved  to  speak  from 
Scripture ;  and  he  rose  up  and  said  :  '  0,  ye  fools ! 
when  w411  you  be  wise  ?  '  and  down  he  sat  again  ;  and 
sat  it  was,  in  Latin,  as  well  as  English.  At  another 
meeting,  I  heard  nine  women  speak ;  and  all  the  sense 
could  have  been  packed  in  a  robin's  egg.  One  of  their 
wise  ones  took  for  his  text,  '  Art  thou  better  than  popu- 
lous No  ? '  Everj'body  know^s  that  No  means  Eg}^- 
tian  Alexandria ;  but  his  inward  light  taught  him  that 
No  was  the  eighth  preacher  of  righteousness,  and   he 

8^ 


90  THE    REBELS. 

was  called  populous,  because  the  whole  world  was  in  his 
ark.  Another  said  he  was  sent  on  a  long  journey  by  the 
spirit,  and  when  he  returned,  he  told  that  the  man  was 
not  at  home.  '  Thou  fool,'  said  his  wife,  '  dost  thou  sup- 
pose the  Lord  would  send  thee  to  a  man  who  was  not  at 
home  ? '  Another  came  to  me,  and  would  fain  inquire 
for  Mr.  Churchman ;  but  the  name  being  profane  in  his 
eyes,  he  asked  for  Mr.  Steeplehouseman." 

"  You  seem  to  be  fighting  shadows,"  said  Somerville, 
"  since  there  are  no  Quakers  here." 

"Only  the  ghost  of  Miss  Sandford's  only  lover,"  an- 
swered the  doctor. 

"  I  could  set  you  right,  in  that  particular,  if  I  had  a 
mind,""  said  Miss  Sandford. 

"  Nobody  ever  supposed  you  had  a  mind,"  retorted 
Doctor  Byles.  "  However,  I  never  knew  an  old  woman 
that  was  not  beautiful  when  she  was  young ;  I  never 
"knew  a  woman  that  could  not  have  been  married,  if  she 
wished  it;  and  I  certainly  never  knew  one  but  that 
wished  it,  if  she  could." 

"  But,  concerning  the  Quakers,"  observed  Henry  Os- 
borne,—  "since  there  is  so  little  of  the  genuine  spirit  of 
religion  in  the  world,  is  it  worth  while  to  throw  any 
away,  because  we  find  it  diluted  ?  " 

"No  man  would  be  more  unwilling  to  wound  a  really 
tender  conscience  than  myself,"  returned  the  clergyman; 
"but  when  I  see  these  foolish  and  blind  guides  pretend- 
ing to  lead  mankind,  I  lose  all  patience.  But  come,  my 
friend,"  said  he,  turning  to  the  boatman,  "I  am  willing 
to  join  in  a  psalm  with  you,  though  I  did  hear  one  of 
your  New  Light  preachers  read,  'He  rode  into  Jerusa- 
lem on  the  soal  of  an  ass ; '  from  which  he  no  doubt  drew 


THE    REBELS.  91 

the  certain  conclusion  that  he  had  a  soul.    But  come,  let 
us  sino-  a  few  verses  :  it  \vill  sound  well  on  the  water." 

"  You  are  a  master  hand  for  a  minister,"  observed  the 
pilot ;  "but  folks  do  say  you  are  better  than  you  seem." 
Then,  taking  a  psalm-book  from  his  pocket,  he  began : 
"  Let  us  sing  a  psalm  of  David." 

"  No,  no,"  said  the  doctor,  displaying  a  piece  of  writ- 
ing, —  "Let  us  sing  a  song  of —  Mather  Byles." 

The  piece  was  well  written,  and  those  who  knew  his 
character  did  not  doubt  that  the  warm  devotion  it  ex- 
pressed was  perfectly  sincere ;  still,  the  scene  was  irresist- 
ibly ludicrous,  even  to  the  sober-minded  Henn'  Osborne. 
A  smile  went  round  when  he  first  announced  his  own 
production  ;  and  it  could  not  but  increase,  as  he  pro- 
ceeded.—  for,  at  the  end  of  every  verse,  he  patiently 
waited  for  his  companion,  who,  with  prolonged  cadence 
and  nasal  t^'ang,  brought  up  the  demisemiquavers,  that 
lingered  most  lamentably  in  the  rear.  The  gayety  of 
the  young  people  would  have  met  ^^'ith  severe  rebuke, 
but  just  as  the  hymn  was  finished,  Fort  WilUam,  with 
the  red-cross  flag  streaming  from  its  summit,  was  seen 
reflected  in  the  unbroken  surface  of  the  water;'  and 
scarcely  had  the  oar  ruffled  its  undisturbed  beauty,  when 
a  group  on  shore  arrested  their  attention. 

"  The  stamped  paper  has  arrived ! "  exclaimed  Henry 
Osborne. 

"And  the  infernal  carsfo  is  to  be  lodsfed  at  the  castle!" 
said  Doctor  Willard,  springing  on  his  feet. 

"I  know  that  the  paper  has  not  yet  arrived,"  replied 
Somer^'ille. 

"  And  1  will  add  my  testimony  to  the  same  effect,  if 
the  word  of  a  tory  can  be  believed,"  said  Doctor  Byles. 


92  THE    REBELS. 

"  No  one  doubts  Doctor  Byles,  when  lie  condescends 
to  speak  in  earnest,"  answered  Henry  Osborne  ;  "  but  I 
acknowledge  I  have  great  curiosity  to  know  what  those 
people  are  collected  for." 

"  Let  us  go  on  shore,"  said  Somerville.  "  If  the  ladies 
have  any  fear,  I  can  order  the  guard  out,  in  the  name  of 
my  uncle." 

The  ladies  would  not  acknowledge  any  fear,  and  the 
proposal  was  readily  accepted.  Henry  Osborne  turned 
to  give  his  hand  to  Lucretia, — but  Somerville  had 
already  ofTered  his  services.  Grace,  too,  unconsciously 
glanced  that  way,  before  she  took  the  proffered  arm  of 
Doctor  Willard ;  but  suddenly  retreated,  when  she  met 
the  penetrating  dark  eye  of  the  young  officer.  At  a 
convenient  distance,  they  paused,  and  watched  the  mo- 
tions of  the  party  they  wished  to  reconnoitre.  Six  men, 
with  Bibles  fastened  on  their  necks  by  silken  cords,  stood 
around  a  large  hole,  from  which  four  others  were  trying 
to  raise  something,  by  means  of  large  iron  levers.  In 
the  midst  of  them  stood  Mr.  Townsend,  with  his  cap 
pushed  far  back,  and  his  spectacles  on,  examining  the 
risinsf  treasure  with  intense  earnestness. 

"  There  is  money  in  the  case,"  whispered  Doctor 
Byles ;  "  else  he  of  the  clenched  fist  would  not  be  here." 

Something  seemed  to  sink  instantly;  and  the  crow- 
bars fell  heavily  upon  the  sand. 

"  Confound  the  voice  that  spoke ! "  exclaimed  the  miser. 
"A  week's  labor  is  lost,  and  twenty  thousand  crowns, 
and  twelve  ingots  of  gold." 

"  How  do  you  know  the  value  of  treasure  you  never 
examined?"  asked  Somerville. 

"That  would  be  easier  to  tell,  than  why  you  come 


THE    REBELS.  93 

here,  at  midnight,  to  meddle  with  a  poor  old  man,  trying 
to  gain  an  honest  penny  to  buy  his  bread,"  said  he ;  and 
he  looked  at  the  sand  which  covered  the  lost  chest,  till 
he  sobbed  with  all  the  impotence  of  childish  dotage. 

"  Step  a  little  nearer,  if  it  pleases  you,  Miss  Fitzher- 
bert,"  said  Somerville. 

The  old  man  turned  pale.  "  Is  there  a  Fitzherbert 
here?"  muttered  he;  " no  wonder  that — "- 

"  Strike  the  bar  down,  and  ascertain  its  depth,"  inter- 
rupted Somervalle,  without  regarding  what  he  said. 

"  Young  man,"  said  Mr.  Towiisend,  "  your  services 
an't  asked.     If  there  is  money,  it  is  of  my  finding." 

"  It  belongs  to  the  crown,  of  course,"  said  the  English- 
man, "if  no  owner  is  proved." 

Before  the  old  man  could  reply,  the  bar  was  thrust 
forcibly  into  the  sand ;  but  no  metal  echoed  to  the  blow. 

"There  never  was  a  chest  here,"  said  one. 

"We  have  been  prying  up  a  good-for-nothing  rock," 
observed  another. 

"But  where,  in  the  devil's  name,  is  the  rock?"  asked 
a  third. 

As  he  spoke,  a  struggling  was  seen  in  the  sand,  and  a 
deep,  low  groan  was  heard.  The  ladies  uttered  a  cry  of 
horror ;  the  miser  clasped  his  skeleton  hands  ;  and  the 
eyes  of  all  present  seemed  starting  from  their  sockets. 
Again  the  mournful  sound  was  heard,  as  if  from  the  very 
centre  of  the  earth ;  and  no  longer  attempting  to  conceal 
their  fear,  the  ring  suddenly  broke  up,  and  every  individ- 
ual departed.  There  was,  indeed,  something  terrific  in 
the  scene.  The  loneliness  of  the  hour,  the  gaunt  figure 
of  the  miser,  the  mysterious  silence,  that  dismal  and 
inexplicable  groan,  and  that  unaccountable  struggle  in 


94  THE    REBELS. 

the  sand,  all  conspired  to  produce  a  dreadful  effect  upon 
their  highly  excited  minds.  However,  fear  and  wonder 
gradualh^  subsided.  Doctor  Byles  and  the  pilot  joined 
in  expressing  their  abhorrence  of  such  profane  use  of  the 
Bible,  Miss  Sandford  dwelt  long  on  her  favorite  theme 
of  modern  degeneracy,  and  the  conversation  at  length 
became  as  general  and  as  lively  as  before.  Lucretia 
sought  her  pillow  with  her  head  full  of  cheerful  visions ; 
Miss  Sandford  related  the  adventure  to  Governor  Hutch- 
inson, and  when  she  retired  to  rest,  she  drew  the  cover- 
let over  her  face,  quick  as  thought,  lest  the  growling 
spirit  should  appear  at  her  bed-side ;  and  as  Grace  extin- 
guished her  light,  she  gently  wiped  away  a  tear,  after 
vainly  attempting  to  account  for  the  capriciousness  of 
Somerville. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

He  would  have  j^ou  believe 
That  a  mouse,  yoked  to  a  pea-pod,  may  draw 
His  goods  about  the  world.  The  Wits. 

While  the  current  of  domestic  happiness  was  gliding 
along  thus  smoothly,  the  tide  of  public  indignation  was 
risinof  hisrher  and  hiQ:her.  The  evening-  after  the  one 
we  have  just  described,  the  cargo  of  paper  arrived, 
bearing  the  stamp,  which  Doctor  Warren  styled  the 
accursed  seal  of  American  slavery.  The  lieutenant 
governor,  fearing  the  tremendous  excitement  that  was 
everywhere  ready  to  burst  forth,  ordered  the  vessel  to 
unload  at  Fort  William,  and  the  hateful  freight  to  be 
guarded  with  the  whole  force  of  the  garrison.  The 
avarice  which  grasped  at  so  many  and  such  incongruous 
offices,  the  support  he  was  known  to  give  to  the  impolitic 
system  of  taxation,  and  the  suspicion  that  he  would 
attempt  to  force  the  distribution  of  stamps,  rendered 
him  an  object  of  uncommon  detestation.  He  seldom 
appeared  in  the  street  without  receiving  some  open 
insult ;  and  there  is  no  name  connected  with  those  times 
handed  down  to  us  with  so  much  bitterness.  Nor  did 
that  respect  for  the  clergy,  which  has  always  charac- 
terized New  England,  prevent  frequent  rudeness  to 
Doctor  Byles.  His  aristocratic  manners,  his  attachment 
to  the  crown,  and  his  friendship  for  the  chief  justice,  all 
combined  to  render  him  odious  to  the  populace.     Young 


96  THE    REBELS. 

and  old,  wise  and  simple,  thoughtless  and  considerate, 
all  took  a  deep  interest  in  the  aspect  of  the  times ;  and, 
though  no  politician  could  foresee  one  half  of  the  im- 
portant consequences  which  were  to  spring  from  that 
eventful  crisis,  yet,  even  then,  there  was  a  fearful  look- 
ing forward  in  the  minds  of  many.  Those  whose  keen 
perceptions  enabled  them  to  appreciate  the  vast  import- 
ance of  one  single  step,  deliberated  with  cautious  wis- 
dom, and  resolved  with  daring  intrepidity ;  while  those 
who  were  guided  by  them  employed  themselves  in  ten 
thousand  petty  stratagems,  to  thwart  and  vex  their  op- 
pressors. Mr.  Townsend  was  well  known  to  be  a  tory 
in  his  predilections,  though,  "  like  the  big-headed  boy  at 
Tatawa,  he  never  took  an  active  part;"  and  the  young 
whigs,  willing  to  tantalize  a  man  who  could  weep  over 
the  loss  of  a  penny,  in  real  bitterness  of  spirit,  resolved 
to  carry  into  execution  a  plan,  which  had  more  of  frolic 
than  malice  in  its  design. 

It  was  a  tremendously  stormy  night,  when,  after  a 
long  and  earnest  conversation  with  Mr.  Wilson,  who  had 
lately  been  his  frequent  guest,  the  old  man  retired  to 
his  miserable  bed,  totally  unaware  of  the  mischief  in 
store  for  him.  The  rain  poured  in  torrents ;  the  dark- 
ness was  almost  tangible  in  its  density ;  and  the  light- 
ning flashed  across  the  sky,  as  if  the  fallen  spirits  were 
brandishing  their  flaming  swords,  in  defiance  of  that 
heaven  from  which  they  had  been  expelled  forever. 
The  winds  roared,  and  the  thunders  rolled  and  crashed, 
as  if  the  chariots  of  Gabriel  were  rushino-  on  to  the  com- 
bat,  and  his  trumpets  hurling  back  the  challenge.  Every 
peal  knocked  hard  at  the  heart  of  that  selfish  old  man ; 
and,  unable  to  compose   himself,  he  arose,  and   crept 


THE    REBELS.  97 

timidly  into  the  chamber  of  his  guest.  Mr.  Wilson, 
more  inured  to  danger,  thought  only  of  a  comfortable 
sleep,  and  had  just  succeeded  in  removing  his  bed  to  a 
corner  \vhich  secured  him  from  the  drenching  rain. 
The  terrors  of  the  poor  \Yretch  svibsided  in  the  presence 
of  his  fearless  companion,  and  with  drowsy  indistinct- 
ness, he  was  jnst  saying,  "  Noah,  and  all  them  critters 
in  the  ark,  must  have  had  a  dreadful  time  on  't,  if  it 
poured  worse  than  it  does  to-night :  and  what  a  heap  of 
provender  they  must  have  devoured  in  fony  days" — ■ 
when  he  was  alarmed  by  loud  and  re|3eated  knocks  at 
the  street  door.  ^Vondering  for  vrhat  purpose  any  one 
could  visit  that  unfrequented  house  on  such  a  merciless 
night,  Mr.  Wilson  hastily  arranged  his  dress,  and  obeyed 
the  summons. 

"  Is  this  ]\Ir.  ToTvnsend's  house  ? "  inquired  the 
stranger. 

"  It  is,  sir." 

"  Is  he  living  ? " 

"  He  is,  sir." 

"  I  am  glad  of  it ;  I  v.-as  afraid  I  should  arrive  Xqo 
late,"  replied  the  phj^sician. 

'*  Wilson  1  V>"ilson !  "  cried  the  old  man,  who  had 
groped  his  way  to  the  head  of  the  stairs.  "  Who  is 
there  ?  are  robbers  breaking  in  ?  —  bolt,  bolt  the  door  ! 
and  take  my  gun,  that 's  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  Don't 
stand  in  the  wind,  with  your  candle.  There,  it  is 
blo^^m  out,  now.     Light  it  quick !  light  it  quick !  " 

The  light  was  hastily  struck ;  but,  before  IVlr.  Wilson 
could  assure  the  miser  that  the  gentleman  was  well 
known  to  him,  he  was  startled  bv  a  second  knock. 

9 


98  THE    REBELS. 

"  There  is  another  one ! "  exclaimed  the  old  man. 
*'  Do  get  a  light,  quick,  and  see  to  my  gun  !  " 

Suspicions  were  again  quieted  by  recognizing  the 
second  intruder  as  Governor  Hutchinson. 

"  Gentlemen,  may  I  ask  what  drove  you  out,  on  such 
a  night  ?  "  inquired  Wilson. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Townsend's  dangerous  sickness,  to  be 
sure,"  answered  both  at  once ;  "  but  do  make  a  fire  — 
we  are  perishing  with  wet  and  cold." 

Mr.  Wilson  brought  forward  some  wood;  but,  before 
he  could  kindle  it,  Mr.  Townsend  was  again  calling  him, 
in  the  feeble  tones  of  a  cracked  voice,  trembling  with 
fear. 

"  Go  to  your  friend,"  said  the  physician.  "  His  sick- 
ness probably  deranges  him." 

"  Am  I  dreaming,  or  am  I  not  ?  "  thought  Wilson,  as 
he  listened  to  the  last  observation. 

After  a  long  effort,  he  succeeded  in  convincing  Mr. 
Townsend  that  he  knew  the  gentlemen  below,  and  that 
it  was  perfectly  safe  for  him  to  come  down.  Thus  en- 
couraged, the  old  man  ventured  into  the  room ;  but  all 
thoughts  of  robbers  vanished  from  his  mind,  the  moment 
he  saw  three  sticks  of  wood  cheerfull}^  blazing  in  his 
fireplace. 

"  I  have  told  you,  a  hundred  times,  Wilson,  that  I 
never  burn  more  than  one  stick  at  a  time,"  said  he,  as 
he  demolished  the  first  hospitable  fire  that  had  been  seen 
there  for  years. 

"  We  are  surprised  to  find  you  able  to  leave  your 
chamber,  Mr.  Townsend,"  said  Doctor  Ruggles. 

"  I  don't  know  what  right  you  had  to  expect  other- 
wise," rejoined   he,  looking  round  upon  them  with  a 


THE    REBELS.  99 

vacant  stare,  and  then  stooping  to  feel  if  the  lock  of  his 
chest  was  perfectly  secure. 

The  two  gentlemen  cast  a  look  of  surprise  at  each 
other,  and  the  lieutenant  governor  said,  "  Has  he  been 
long  deranged  ?  " 

"  There  is  more  knocking,  Wilson.  Give  me  my  gun! 
Hand  it  quick !  quick  I  "  exclaimed  the  terrified  wretch. 

The  gun  was  speedily  handed,  but  before  Wilson 
could  open  the  door.  Doctor  Byles  entered.  Hastily 
shaking  the  rain  from  his  hat,  he  inquired,  "  Is  he  living, 
sir?" 

Beginning  to  comprehend  the  joke,  Mr.  Wilson  burst 
into  a  loud  laugh,  as  he  said,  "  He  is  alive  and  well,  sir." 
Another  look  of  wonder  passed  between  the  gentlemen, 
as  they  bowed  to  Doctor  Byles,  and  made  room  for  him 
before  the  fire. 

The  trembling  old  miser  had  ensconced  himself  in  a 
comer  of  the  room,  with  one  foot  on  his  money-chest, 
and  his  gun  braced  firmly  on  his  shoulder,  as  if  resolved 
to  fight  for  his  treasure  to  the  last  moment  of  his  life. 

"Did  you  say  ]Mr.  Townsend  was  really  well,  sir?" 
asked  Doctor  Byles. 

"  I  did,  sir ;  and  now  will  you  tell  me  how  you  were 
all  brought  here  to-night  ?  " 

"  I  was  called  up,  at  midnight,  and  told  that  Mr.  Town- 
send  was  in  great  distress  of  mind,  and  needed  my  aid 
to  set  the  joints  of  a  broken  spirit." 

"And  I,"  said  Governor  Hutchinson,  "was  summoned 
to  attend  his  death-bed,  if  I  wished  to  hear  some  very 
important  communications." 

"  My  visit  is  of  course  explained,"  said  the  physician. 
"  Some  one  has  made  this  world  of  mischief  for  a  joke." 


100  THE    REBELS. 

"  It  is  all  a  trick,  do  you  see?"  said  Townsend,  ven- 
turing forward ;  "  and  I  trust  you  are  not  going  to  ask  a 
copper,  seeing  I  never  sent  for  you." 

"  It  is  a  hard  case  for  doctor  or  patient  to  ride  from 
Boston  to  Roxbury  such  a  confounded  stormy  night," 
said  the  physician.  "  However,  I  will  be  content  if  you 
will  give  us  shelter  until  morning." 

"  Yes,  we  must  all  remain  to-night,"  said  Doctor 
Byles,  "  and  our  horses  must  not  stand  in  that  open 
shed." 

This  suggestion  was  answered  by  a  deep  groan  from 
the  miser.  "  O,  dear ! "  said  he,  "  it  is  enough  to  cost  a 
man  a  fortune  to  live  in  such  troublesome  times." 

Without  noticing  his  murmurs,  Wilson  procured  a 
lantern,  and  placed  the  horses  in  as  comfortable  a  situ- 
ation as  the  dilapidated  state  of  the  barn  would  admit. 

"  O,  I  can't  afford  it !  This  will  be  the  ruin  of  me  ! 
—  and  to  have  that  candle  burning  in  the  lantern,  too  I 
O,  it  will  ruin  me  !  There  is  no  use  in  having  a  light 
to  talk  by,"  said  Mr.  Townsend,  when  his  companion 
returned. 

Without  interrupting  him,  Wilson,  with  blunt  hospi- 
tality, apologized  for  the  state  of  the  house,  and  offered 
whatever  it  contained  for  their  refreshment. 

The  offer  was  accepted ;  and,  notwithstanding  the  old 
gentleman's  contrary  orders,  such  food  as  the  house 
afforded  was  soon  arranged  before  them. 

The  remains  of  a  miserable  soup  were  placed  on  the 
table,  in  a  small  earthen  pan ;  a  pitcher  of  water  on  one 
corner,  a  few  dried  crusts  of  bread  on  the  other ;  three 
wooden  plates,  and  a  few  broken  knives  and  forks,  com- 
posed the  whole  apparatus  for  their  frugal  meal. 


THE    REBELS.  101 

For  a  while  the  miser  sat  muttering  between  his  teeth, 
that  he  wished  it  might  bode  good,  having  three  men 
come  in  one  night  to  tell  him  he  was  dying.  He  had 
heard  his  mother  tell  about  folks  being  warned  of  their 
end  ;  but  when  he  saw  the  keen  appetites,  before  which 
his  worldly  goods  were  fast  disappearing,  he  sobbed 
aloud. 

Governor  Hutchinson,  almost  forgetting  his  vexation 
in  the  amusement  of  the  scene,  promised  their  bill  of  fare 
should  be  paid  the  ensuing  day.  "  Now,  have  you  not 
a  little  brandy,  to  wash  down  this  excellent  supper  ? " 
added  he. 

"  No,  I  don't  keep  such  things ;  but  that  soup  is  nice 
and  warming." 

"  There  is  not  enough  of  it  to  warm  two  ounces  of 
blood,"  rejoined  the  physician.  "  You  look  as  if  you 
needed  stimulus  3'ourself.  Are  you  sure  you  are  not 
consumptive,  Mr.  Townsend  ?  " 

''  He  looks  at  the  food  we  eat,  as  if  he  thought  us  fear- 
fully consumptive,''  said  Doctor  Byles. 

The  miser  stared  at  his  remark,  and  replied,  "  Why, 
the  truth  is,  I  have  been  een  jest  sick,  these  many 
3'ears." 

"  It  seems  you  are  in  jest  sick  to-night ;  and  that  we 
are  iii  jest  fools,"  observed  Doctor  Byles.  "  However,  I 
beheve  I  understand  the  nature  of  this  mischievous  frolic. 
What  are  your  politics,  'Six.  Townsend  ?  " 

The  miser  looked  around  the  company,  and,  unable  to 
determine  what  answer  would  eventually  be  the  safest, 
he  hesitatingly  replied,  "  I  trust  my  heart  is  on  the  right 
side." 

"  If  I  thought  it  was,  I  would  send  you  to  a  surgeon, 
9=^ 


102  THE    REBELS. 

as  a  curiosity,"  rejoined  Doctor  Byles.  "  In  good  truth, 
you  look  as  if  you  had  escaped  from  the  sexton." 

"  Yes,"  said  Hutchinson,  "you  are  exceedingly  thin; 
and,  since  there  are  so  many  witnesses  present,  had  you 
not  better  settle  your  affairs  ?  It  is  well  to  have  a  will, 
at  any  rate." 

"  So  women  and  whigs  think,"  replied  Doctor  Byles  ; 
"  and  the  latter  have  had  their  will,  at  any  rate,  in  send- 
ing us  here  to-night." 

"  Have  you  done  aught  to  offend  the  rebels  ?  "  asked 
Hutchinson. 

"  I  have  already  told  you  that  I  have  fifteen  posts,"  he 
replied ;  "  but  as  for  politics,  I  never  meddle  with  them. 
I  do  not  understand  them  ;  and  they  do,  every  mother's 
son  of  them.  I  see  plainly  how  it  will  end,  —  they  will 
fin'Ully  do  as  the  Quakers  and  New  Lights  say  they  have 
done  —  put  off  the  old  man." 

"  Many  would  rejoice  to  take  the  treasure  from  their 
hands,"  said  Hutchinson;  "but  I  think  your  people 
would  soon  be  glad  to  send  a  writ  of  trover,  in  search  of 
talents,  learning,  and  goodness." 

Doctor  Byles  bowed  low,  and  said,  "  Since  the  storm 
continues  too  furious  for  us  to  return  home,  had  we  not 
better  bottle  off  a  little  sleep  against  the  exigencies  of  the 
morrow  ? " 

No  one  dissented ;  and  Wilson,  with  more  kindness 
than  his  growling  manner  indicated,  prepared  lodgings 
as  comfortable  as  the  crazy  situation  of  the  building 
would  admit.  After  showing  the  guests  to  their  respect- 
ive rooms,  he  returned  to  his  miserable  companion. 
The  old  man  burst  into  tears,  and  exclaimed,  "  0,  Wil- 
son, they  '11  ruin  me  !  —  four  sticks  of  wood  are  burnt  out ; 


THE    REBELS.  103 

one  candle  is  gone,  and  you  've  lit  another ;  to-morrow's 
dinner  is  devoured ;  and  you  have  broke  the  pitcher  that 
I  have  drinked  out  of  more  than  twenty  years!  O 
dear !  "  added  he,  with  a  deep  groan  ;  "  them  horses  are 
dreadful  ravenous  beasts.  I  never  had  such  a  costly 
night  before.  No  less  than  two  crowns  are  sunk,  this 
minute." 

"  I  wish  as  many  mitres  had  sunk  with  them,"  said 
his  surly  companion.  "Many  a  shilling  has  the  king 
taken  out  of  my  pocket,  and  never  a  penny  did  I  receive 
from  him.  But  be  done  grumbling,  old  man  —  I  'm  tired 
of  it.  One  word  whispered  to  Hutchinson,  you  know, 
would  lay  you  on  a  bed  of  coals." 

The  miser  grasped  his  arm  with  a  most  beseeching 
look,  just  as  a  lumbering  vehicle  rattled  to  the  door,  and 
a  loud  knock  announced  another  arrival.  A  tall,  robust 
man,  with  a  fear-nought  coat  buttoned  up  to  his  throat, 
and  his  cocked-hat  unlooped  to  defend  him  from  the  tem- 
pest, impatiently  inquired  whether  Mr.  Townsend  was 
ready  to  start  for  Providence. 

"  I  never  thought  of  going  there,"  replied  the  old  man, 
stepping  up  to  him.  The  stranger  actually  started  back ; 
and,  indeed,  the  long  flannel-gown,  the  high,  red  night- 
cap, surmounted  by  an  enormous  tassel,  the  shqrp,  death- 
like visage,  and  the  gun,  which  he  held  tight  in  his  bony 
hand,  made  him  seem  more  like  one  of  Pluto's  stray 
ghosts  than  any  human  figure. 

"  I  was  told  to  come  here  at  two  o'clock,"  said  he,  "  to 
carry  you  to  Providence,  on  business  that  nothing  in  the 
earth,  or  under  it,  must  hinder." 

"  Was  it  not  some  other  Mr.  Townsend  ? "  asked  Wil- 
son. 


104  THE    REBELS. 

«<  D — n  you  !  "  said  the  passionate  man,  "  who  does 
not  know  Townsend  the  miser  ?  I  swear  I  '11  be  paid  for 
my  trouble." 

"  1  tell  you,"  replied  the  old  man,  "  I  won't  pay  a  sin- 
gle stiver  ;   for  I  never  asked  you  to  come." 

The  irritated  man  poured  forth  a  volley  of  oaths, 
which  Wilson  at  length  stopped  by  offering  him  a  hand- 
ful of  money,  and  telling  him  that  the  whigs  had  already 
sent  three  influential  tories  on  errands  equally  fruitless. 

"  If  that  is  the  case,"  said  Jehu,  lowering  his  tone,  "  I 
will  be  satisfied  with  a  moderate  compensation.  I  am  in 
King  George's  service,  and  I  must  take  some  of  his  kicks, 
for  the  sake  of  his  coppers." 

The  crack  of  the  whip,  and  the  shrill  whistle,  soon 
proclaimed  his  departure. 

"Come,  'Squire  Skin-flint,"  said  Wilson,  "you  must 
pay  me  your  stage-fare,  before  you  go  to  bed." 

"  How  can  you  say  so  ? "  responded  the  covetous 
wretch.  "  You  will  kill  me,  Wilson.  I  shall  never  see 
the  sun  rise,  at  this  rate." 

"  That  is  what  I  should  call  giving  the  devil  his  due," 
replied  the  ruffian.     "  Open  your  purse." 

The  old  man  hesitated.  "  Will  you  promise  never  to 
speak  of  the  bank-notes  ?  Was  that  in  the  bargain  ?  " 
said  he. 

"Do you  think  I  will  let  go  your  purse-strings,  now 
I  have  hold  of  them  ? "  replied  Wilson,  with  a  sneer. 
"  Besides,  my  oaths  are  brittle  things  ;  I  have  broken  — " 
with  a  voice  suddenly  subdued  by  powerful  emotion,  he 
added,  "  Some  have  I  broken,  for  which  every  farthing 
of  your  immense  wealth  could  not  atone."  He  leaned 
his   head   on   his   hand,  and  the    old   gentleman   crept 


THE    REBELS.  105 

towards  the  stairs  as  cautiously  as  one  that  fears  to  wake 
a  sleeping  tiger.  "Your  money!"  thundered  Wilson, 
seizing  his  arm,  and  looking  on  him  with  terrible,  snake- 
like power.  The  old  man  drew  out  a  greasy  purse,  but 
seemed  reluctant  to  open  it.  "  Hutchinson  sleeps  above 
— and  I  have  a  tongue  !  "  said  his  tormentor. 

The  required  money  was  instantly  poured  upon  the 
table,  and  the  old  man  hobbled  up  stairs,  ever  and  anon 
saying,  "  That  man  will  be  the  ruin  of  me  I  "  and  then 
sobbing-,  in  the  bitterness  of  his  heart. 


CHAPTER    X. 

She  's  beautiful ;  and  therefore  to  be  woo'd : 
She  's  a  woman  ;  therefore  to  be  won. 

Henry  VI. 

On  the  second  day  after  this  adventure,  Mr.  Wilson 
departed  from  Boston,  in  order  to  obtain  an  interview 
with  Edward  Percival,  and  ascertain  the  destiny  of  his 
daug-hter.  Aware  to  how  much  dangler  she  would  be 
exposed,  if  she  came  forth  into  the  world  wealthy  and 
inexperienced,  beautiful  and  unguarded,  he  felt  exceed- 
ingly anxious  to  give  her  into  the  protection  of  a  young 
man  whom  he  knew  to  be  so  entirely  estimable  as  the 
one  we  have  mentioned.  At  the  same  time,  he  was 
painfully  conscious  of  the  unfavorable  impression  his 
own  notorious  character  must  produce;  and,  in  order  to 
remove,  as  far  as  possible,  this  obstacle  to  the  respecta- 
bility of  his  child,  he  resolved  to  arrange  his  dress, 
equipage,  and  manners,  with  the  most  studious  care.  It 
was,  indeed,  a  striking  proof  how  much  influence  the 
affections  have  over  the  most  reckless  and  depraved,  that 
this  man,  so  unfeeling  and  unprincipled  to  all  the  world 
beside,  should  evince  tenderness,  and  even  delicacy, 
where  this  one  beloved  object  was  concerned. 

The  young  man  for  whom  these  preparations  were 
making  was  the  son  of  Mr.  Townsend's  only  sister,  but 
in  every  respect  unlike  his  parsimonious  relation.  He 
was  generous,  to  a  fault ;  and  was  remarkable  for  a  keen 
sense  of  honor,  united  with  a  lordliness  of  character 
that  sometimes  touched  upon  the  very  verge  of  tyranny. 


THE    REBELS.  107 

For  his  covetous  uncle,  he  could  not  always  restrain  his 
contempt ;  but  he  was  by  no  means  romantic  enough  to 
despise  the  wealth  he  had  accumulated,  and  he  really 
regarded  the  desolate  old  man  with  compassion  that  bor- 
dered on  kindness. 

He  had,  from  his  earliest  infancy,  been  educated  in 
Canada ;  and,  at  the  time  we  choose  to  present  him  to 
our  readers,  he  was  mounted  on  a  dapple-gray  steed, 
traversing  the  road  between  Montreal  and  Quebec,  — 
which,  at  that  early  period,  was  certainly  none  too  smooth 
to  typify  the  path  of  life.  It  was  autumn ;  and  the 
earth,  as  if  weary  of  the  vanities  of  her  children,  was 
rapidly  changing  her  varied  and  gorgeous  drapery  for 
robes  as  sad  and  unadorned  as  those  of  the  cloister. 
The  tall  and  almost  leafless  trees  stood  amid  black  and 
mouldering  stumps,  like  giants  among  the  tomb-stones 
—  the  faint-rnurmuring  voice  of  the  St.  Lawrence  was 
heard  in  the  distance,  and  the  winds  rustled  among  the 
leaves,  as  if  imitating  the  sound  of  its  waters. 

The  melancholy  that  we  feel,  when  gazing  on  natural 
scenes  in  the  vigor  of  young  existence,  is  but  pleasure 
in  a  softened  form.  It  has  none  of  the  bitterness  —  none 
of  that  soul-sickening  sense  of  desolation  —  which  visits 
us  in  our  riper  years,  when  we  have  had  sad  experience 
of  the  jarring  interests,  the  selfish  coldness,  and  the 
heartless  caprice,  of  the  world.  A  rich  imagination,  like 
the  transparent  mantle  of  light  which  the  Flemish 
artists  delight  to  throw  around  their  pictures,  gives  its 
own  glowing  hues  to  the  dreariness  of  winter  and  the 
sobriety  of  autumn,  as  well  as  to  the  freshness  of  spring 
and  the  verdure  of  summer;  and,  if  the  affections  are 
calm  and  pure,  forests  and  streams,  sky  and  ocean,  sun- 


108  THE    REBELS. 

rise  and  twilight,  will  always  bring  deep,  serene,  and 
holy  associations.  Under  the  influence  of  such  feel- 
ings, our  young  traveller  entered  Quebec,  just  as  the 
rays  of  the  declining  sun  tinged  the  windows  and  spires 
with  a  fiery  beam,  and  fell  obliquely,  on  the  distant  hills, 
in  tranquil  radiance.  At  the  sign  of  St.  George  and  the 
Dragon,  the  horse  made  a  motion  to  pause  ;  and,  thus 
reminded  of  the  faithful  creature's  extreme  fatigue,  he 
threw  the  bridle  over  his  neck,  and  gave  him  into  the 
care  of  a  ragged  hostler,  who,  in  bad  French,  demanded 
his  pleasure. 

In  the  same  language,  his  hostess  gave  her  brief  salu- 
tation of  —  "A  clever  night  to  ride,  please  your  honor." 

Percival  civilly  replied  to  her  courtesy,  and  gave  orders 
for  supper.  The  inn  was  unusually  crowded  and  noisy  ; 
and,  willing  to  escape  a  while  from  the  bustling  scene,  he 
walked  out  into  the  city.  The  loud  ringing  of  the  cathe- 
dral bells,  summoning  the  inhabitants  to  evening  prayer, 
and  the  rolling  of  drums  from  the  neighboring  garri- 
son, were  at  variance  with  the  quietude  of  his  spirit. 
He  turned  from  the  main  street,  and  rambled  along  until 
he  reached  the  banks  of  the  little  river  St.  Charles,  about 
a  mile  westward  from  the  town.  He  paused  before  the 
extensive  and  venerable  looking  hospital,  founded  by  M. 
de  St.  Vallier,  the  second  Bishop  of  Quebec.  The  high, 
steep  roof,  and  the  wide  portals,  beneath  which  various 
images  of  the  saints  were  safely  ensconced  in  their 
respective  niches,  were  indistinctly  seen  in  the  dimness 
of  t\vilight ;  but  a  rich  gush  of  sound,  from  the  interior 
of  the  building,  poured  on  the  ear,  mingling  the  deep 
tones  of  the  organ  with  woman's  sweetest  melody. 

All  that  painting  and  music,  pomp  and  pageantry,  can 


THE    REBELS.  109 

do,  to  dazzle  the  imagination  and  captivate  the  heart, 
has  ever  been  employed  by  that  tremendous  hierarchy, 
"whose  roots  were  in  another  world,  and  whose  far- 
stretching  shadow  awed  our  own."  At  this  time,  the 
effect  was  increased  by  that  sense  of  mystery  so  delight- 
ful to  the  human  soul.  "  Ora,  ora  pro  nobis,"  was 
uttered  by  beings  secluded  from  the  world,  taking  no 
part  in  the  busy  game  of  life,  and  separated  from  all  that 
awakens  the  tumult  of  passion,  and  the  eagerness  of  pur- 
suit. How,  then,  could  fancy  paint  them  othervvise  than 
lovely,  placid,  and  spotless  ?  Had  Percival  been  behind 
the  curtain,  during  these  sanctified  dramas,  —  had  he 
ever  searched  out  the  indolence,  the  filth,  and  the  profli- 
gacy, secreted  in  such  retreats,  —  the  spell  that  bound 
him  would  have  been  broken;  but  it  had  been  riveted 
by  early  association,  and  now  rendered  peculiarly  delight- 
ful by  the  excited  state  of  his  feelings.  Resig-ning  hmi- 
self  entirely  to  its  dominion,  he  inquired,  of  one  who 
stood  within  the  door,  whether  it  was  possible  for  him  to 
gain  admittance. 

The  man  held  out  his  hand  for  money,  and  having 
received  a  Here,  answered,  "  Certainly,  sir.  You  must 
be  a  stranger  in  Quebec,  or  you  vrould  know  that  there 
is  to  be  a  procession  of  white  nuns  to-night,  in  honor  of 
M.  de  St.  V^ailier."  So  saying,  he  led  the  way  into  the 
building. 

An  old  priest,  exceedingly  lazy  in  his  manner,  and 
monotonous  in  his  tone,  was  reading  mass,  to  which 
most  of  the  audience  zealously  vociferated  a  response. 

An  arch,  ornamented  with  basso  relievo  figures  of  the 
saints,  on  one  side  of  the  chancel,  surmounted  a  door, 
which  apparently  led  to  an  interior  chapel ;  and  beneath 

10 


110  THE    REBELS- 

a  similar  one,  on  the  opposite  side,  was  a  grated  win- 
dow, shaded  by  a  large,  flowing  curtain  of  black  silk. 

Behind  this  provoking  screen'wefe  the  daughters  of 
earth,  whom  our  traveller  supposed  to  be  as  beautiful  as 
angels,  and  as  pure. 

For  some  time,  a  faint  response,  a  shght  cough,  or  a 
deep-drawn  sigh,  alone  indicated  the  vicinity  of  the 
seraphic  beings. 

At  length,  however,  the  mass,  with  all  its  thousand 
ceremonies,  was  concluded.  There  was  silence  for  a 
moment,  and  then  was  heard  one  of  the  low,  thrilling 
chants  of  the  church  of  Rome. 

There  was  the  noise  of  light,  sandalled  feet.  The 
music  died  away  to  a  delicious  warbling,  as  faint  and 
earnest  as  woman's  entreaty ;  —  then,  gradually  rising 
to  a  bold,  majestic  burst  of  sound,  the  door  on  the  oppo- 
site side  opened,  and  the  sisterhood  entered,  amid  a 
glare  of  light. 

That  most  of  them  were  old  and  ugly,  passed  un- 
noticed ;  for  whatever  visions  an  enthusiastical  imagina- 
tion might  have  conjured  up  were  certainly  realized  by 
the  figure  that  preceded  the  procession. 

Her  forehead  was  pale  and  lofty,  —  her  expression 
proud,  but  highly  intellectual.  A  white  veil,  carelessly 
pinned  about  her  brow,  fell  over  her  shoulders  in  grace- 
ful drapery;  and  as  she  glided  along,  the  loose  white 
robe,  that  constituted  the  uniform  of  her  order,  displayed 
to  the  utmost  advantage  that  undulating  outline  of 
beauty  for  which  the  statues  of  Psyche  are  so  remark- 
able. 

A  silver  crucifix  was  clasped  in  her  hands,  and  her 
eyes  were  steadily  raised  toward  heaven ;  yet  there  was 


THE    REBELS.  .  Ill 

something  in  her  general  aspect,  from  which  one  would 
have  concluded  that  the  fair  devotee  had  never  known 
the  world,  rather  than  that  she  had  left  it  in  weariness 
or  disgust. 

Her  eye  happened  to  glance  on  our  young  friend,  as 
she  passed  near  him ;  and  he  fancied  it  rested  a  moment, 
with  delighted  attention. 

The  procession  moved  slowly  on,  in  pairs,  the  apostles 
bearing  waxen  lights  on  either  side,  until  the  last  white 
robe  was  concealed  behind  an  arch  at  the  other  end  of 
the  extensive  apartment. 

The  receding  sounds  of,  "  O  sanctissima,  O  puris- 
sima,"  floated  on  the  air,  mingled  with  clouds  of  frank- 
incense ;  and  the  young  man  pressed  his  hand  to  his 
forehead,  with  a  bewildered  sensation,  as  if  the  airy 
phantoms  of  the  magic  lantern  had  just  been  flitting 
before  him. 

A  notice  from  the  porter  that  the  nuns  were  now  at 
the  altar  performing  silent  mass,  and  that  the  doors  were 
shortly  to  be  closed,  recalled  his  recollection;  and  slip^ 
ping  money  into  the  hands  of  his  informer,  he  left  the 
church,  and  bent  his  footsteps  towards  the  sign  of  St. 
George  and  the  Dragon. 

The  wranHinor  and  discordant  sounds  of  an  inn  were 
never  so  unwelcome  to  him ;  and  with  peculiar  vexation, 
he  heard  a  loud  voice,  inquiring  of  the  landlady,  "  Are 
you  sure  that  the  taU,  handsome  young  man  I  mentioned, 
with  light-brown  hair  and  blue  eyes,  has  been  here 
to-night  ?  " 

"  I  tell  you,  yes.  In  troth,  he  is  not  one  a  woman 
would  be  likely  to  forget." 

"  Where  did  he  go,  when  he  left  here  ?" 


112  THE    REBELS. 

"  That  is  what  I  know  nothing  of.  May-be  he  is  a 
New  England  rebel,  come  to  raise  the  country  in  arms 
against  his  majesty ;  —  and  yet,  I  should  not  think  so. 
He  spoke  better  French  than  the  Yankees  do." 

The  inquirer,  who  was  none  other  than  Mr.  Wilson, 
took  a  heavy  silver  watch  from  his  pocket,  looked  at  the 
hour,  and  replaced  it,  with  an  air  of  great  impatience,  as 
he  said,  "  It  is  after  nine.  The  trumpets  from  the  fort 
have  sounded  the  hour  of  rest.  What  can  have  become 
of  him  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  he  is  one  of  your  moon-struck  folks,  that 
gaze  on  the  stars  till  they  forget  to  eat  their  supper.  So 
much  the  better  for  those  who  take  their  pay,  whether  or 
no." 

Just  at  that  moment,  the  subject  of  their  conversation 
entered  the  room. 

In  a  confused  manner,  Mr.  Wilson  stammered  out, 
"Mr.  Percival,  I  believe?" 

"I  think  I  have  seen  you  before,  Mr.  Wilson," 
rejoined  the  young  man,  vath  a  look  of  coldness  bor- 
dering on  hauteur. 

"  Pardon  my  intrusion,  sir.  I  have  business  of 
importance." 

"It  is  very  well,"  replied  Percival.  "Be  seated,  if 
you  please.  I  cannot  attend  to  you,  just  now;  for  I 
have  eaten  nothing  since  I  entered  Quebec." 

He  wias  about  to  seat  himself  at  the  table ;  but  com- 
pelled himself  to  say,  "  Have  you  taken  supper,  sir?" 

"1  did,  at  an  early  hour;  but  I  must  acknowledge 
that  I  am  ready  for  another." 

"  Move  to  the  table,  then,  if  you  will." 

The  invitation,  ungracious  as  it  was,  was  accepted ; 


THE    REBELS.  113 

and  though  neither  the  quality  of  the  food,  nor  its 
cleanliness,  would  have  tempted  a  New  England  appe- 
tite, the  hostess  certainly  had  no  reason  to  conclude  that 
either  of  her  guests  preferred  star-gazing  to  solid  food. 

With  hunofer  too  keen  to  be  fastidious,  the  travellers 
devoured  a  hearty  meal,  with  no  other  interruption  than 
an  occasional  boW  from  Mr.  Wilson,  as  he  raised  the 
mug  of  cider  to  his  lips. 

When  the  landlady  had  retired,  and  closed  the  door 
after  her,  the  young  gentleman  inquired  what  important 
business  had  procured  him  this  unexpected  visit. 

"  You  have  an  uncle  in  Boston,"  said  Wilson,  who 
seemed  to  be  strangely  awed  by  the  gentleman-like 
manner  of  his  auditor. 

Percival  bowed  to  this  unimportant  remark,  and  his 
companion  continued,  "  You  expect  considerable  prop- 
erty from  him,  I  presume  ?  " 

"I  have  always  treated  Mr.  Townsend  with  proper 
attention ;  and  I  am  his  only  relation  :  but  these  things 
are  very  uncertain,"  replied  Percival. 

"  Well,  sir,  I  have  come  to  inform  you  upon  what 
grounds  the  whole  of  his  large  property  may  be  insured 
to  you." 

"  You,  sir ! "  exclaimed  Percival,  with  an  expression, 
of  contempt  so  strong  and  undisguised,  that  Wilson  felt 
his  blood  boil  in  his  veins,  as  he  answered,  "  Yes,  I,  sir. 
Your  uncle  has  committed  crimes  for  which  the  rigid 
laws  of  England  would  take  his  life ;  and  the  evidence 
of  them  is  in  my  hands.  To  bring  the  matter  to  a 
point  at  once,  I  have  a  daughter.  If  you  will  marry 
her,  the  fortune  is  yours ;  —  if  not,  it  all  descends  to 
her,  with  the  exception  of  a  trifling  legacy.     The  will  is 

10-^ 


114  THE    REBELS. 

made  and  attested ;  and  should  he  presume  to  aher  it, 
his  life  must  pay  the  forfeit." 

Percival  eyed  him  for  a  moment  with  extreme  scorn, 
and  asked,  "  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  artifice,  sir  ?  " 

"  It  is  no  trick,"  replied  Wilson ;  and  he  handed  him 
a  letter  from  Mr.  Townsend,  and  another  from  the 
lawyer  who  had  written  the  will. 

The  young  gentleman  to  whom  they  were  addressed 
had  to(3  much  pride  to  think  of  such  a  father-in-law 
with  anything  like  complacency.  Besides,  he  had 
indulged  very  romantic  ideas  concerning  love ;  and  he 
was  by  no  means  pleased  with  the  business  air  of  this 
transaction.  He  thought  of  affection,  as  some  people 
think  of  religion,  that  it  could  not  be  genuine,  unless  it 
came  upon  him  at  once,  with  irresistible  power ;  and 
however  apocryphal  his  creed  might  be,  the  white-robed 
vision  he  had  that  evening  seen  tended  not  a  little  to 
confirm  it. 

After  one  or  two  impatient  strides  across  the  room, 
he  stopped  suddenly,  and  said,  "  A  wife  is  not  to  be 
bought  and  sold,  like  your  southern  slaves ;  nor  are  my 
affections,  like  a  garment,  to  be  put  on  and  off  as  interest 
may  dictate.  My  uncle  must  dispose  of  his  money  as 
he  chooses.  I  trust  to  my  own  energies.  Good-even- 
ing, sir." 

"  Stop,  I  beg  of  you,"  said  Wilson,  earnestly.  "  Do 
not  decide  till  you  have  seen  Gertrude.  I  am  a  wretch, 
and  you  know  it ;  but  she  has  been  kept  from  all  the 
pollutions  of  this  tempting  world,  and  has  grown  up,  in 
the  convent  of  St.  Vallier,  as  pure,  as  lovely,  and  as 
elegant,  as  the  proudest  lady  in  the  land." 


THE    REBELS.  115 

"  Is  she  —  is  she  a  novitiate  at  St.  Vallier's  ? "  eagerly- 
inquired  Percival. 

"  She  is ;  and  how  deeply  soever  I  may  have  plunged 
into  guilt,  nobody  can  say  that  I  have  not  been  to  her  all 
that  I  should  be.  It  is  impressed  upon  my  mind  that  I 
shall  not  live  long.  No  matter  whether  I  am  a  fool  for 
believing  it,  or  not.  ^Yhen  I  am  gone,  she  will  be  left 
beautiful  and  wealthy  —  an  easy  prey  to  the  sharper  or 
the  sensualist.  Your  character  is  all  that  I  wish  my 
own  had  been ;  and  my  last  earthly  cares  would  be  over, 
if  you  were  her  protector." 

"  But,"  said  Percival,  crimsoning  to  the  very  temples, 
"  even  if  she  is  all  I  hope,  she  is  —  illegitimate." 

Mr.  Wilson  drew  his  breath  hard,  in  the  agony  of  his 
spirit.  After  a  pause,  he  replied,  "  I  was  the  husband 
of  her  mother.  Sit  down,  young  man,  and  I  will  tell 
you  all,  though  it  is  a  subject  on  which  I  never  meant  to 
speak  to  mortal  man.  I  was  once  as  proud  as  you  are  ; 
and  perhaps  with  as  much  reason.  The  world  prophe- 
sied my  success  in  life,  and  considered  me  a  master- 
spirit, born  to  sway  my  fellows.  With  a  gentleman  and 
a  scholar,  I  still  have  some  touches  of  my  former  spirit ; 
but  I  will  say  no  more  on  that  point.  In  my  best  days, 
I  won  the  heart  of  a  beautiful  young  creature,  the  daugh- 
ter of  a  miserable,  half-crazed  woman,  in  Halifax.  I  was 
aristocratic  then,  —  and  it  was  long  before  I  could  bring 
myself  to  think  of  marriage  with  one  so  much  my  infe- 
rior. However,  her  confiding  fondness  gained  upon  my 
aflfections,  and  I  finally  made  a  sort  of  half  atonement, 
by  a  private  marriage."  He  stopped,  and  his  whole 
frame  shuddered.  "  It  must  be  told,"  continued  he.* 
"  Captain  Fitzherbert  was   then   in  port.     He  was  too 


116  THE    REBELS. 

handsome,  and  too  attentive  to  my  young  wife.  Ger- 
trude knew  it  gave  me  uneasiness ;  but,  conscious  of  her 
innocence,  and  loving  to  exert  her  power,  she  continued 
as  gay  and  as  free  as  ever.  Day  after  day  passed  in. 
this  manner,  till  she  became  a  mother.  Fitzherbert 
dared  to  reproach  me  for  my  ungenerous  conduct ;  and 
Gertrude,  after  having  besought  me,  with  tearful  eyes, 
to  make  our  marriage  public,  told  me  that  she  had  no 
friend  in  the  world  but  Fitzherbert.  Maddened  to 
insupportable  jealousy,  I  —  stabbed  her! " 

From  different  causes,  both  were  silent  for  a  long  time  ; 
and  the  convulsed  features  of  Wilson  alone  betrayed 
his  agitation.  "  She  was  innocent,"  he  added ;  "  and 
here  —  here,"  pressing  his  hand  upon  his  heart,  "  her 
memory  '  biteth  like  a  serpent,  and  stingeth  like  an 
adder.'  After  that  dreadful  deed,  I  never  cared  what 
became  of  me.  I  have  been  a  drunkard,  a  pirate,  and  a 
ruffian  ;  —  but  a  father  still." 

He  wrung  Percival's  hand  with  desperate  energy,  as 
he  spoke,  and  the  tears  started  to  his  eyes.  There  was 
an  air  of  majesty  about  him,  fallen  as  he  was,  that  found 
its  way  to  the  young  man's  heart.  When  he  first  spoke 
of  his  crime,  Percival  could  not  restrain  a  loathing 
expression  of  hatred  and  horror ;  but  now  he  turned  to 
the  window  to  conceal  how  much  he  had  been  affected 
by  such  a  deep  and  frenzied  remorse. 

When  the  conversation  was  again  resumed,  Wilson, 
said,  "  For  a  few  weeks  the  infant  Gertrude  was  in  the 
hands  of  her  grandmother;  but  I  could  not  trust  the 
sweet  little  being,  now  doubly  dear,  for  her  murdered 
•mother's  sake,  in  the  care  of  one  so  low  and  vicious. 
I  therefore  gave  orders  that  she  should  be  placed  at  the 


THE    REBELS.  117 

hospital  of  St.  Vallier,  and  that  her  grandmother  should 
never  be  permitted  to  see  her.  I  gave  money  enough 
to  insure  a  punctual  obedience  to  my  commands,  and 
departed  for  the  West  Indies,  where  many  a  bloody  deck 
has  borne  witness  to  my  courage  and  my  sins.  I  have 
seldom  seen  Gertrude.  Of  late  years,  she  has  so  ear- 
nestly entreated  to  come  out  into  the  world,  and  I  have 
been  so  entirely  unable  to  make  her  situation  respecta- 
ble, that  I  have  forborne  to  visit  her." 

To  this  frank  avowal,  Percival  replied  by  reminding 
the  wretch€?d  man  that  it  was  never  too  late  to  repent 
of  crime,  and  to  atone  for  it  by  a  life  of  usefulness  and 
piety. 

"  The  best  thing  you  can  do,"  said  he,  "  is  to  purchase 
some  secluded  dwelling,  to  which  you  can  retire  with 
your  daughter,  and  there  forget  everything  but  the 
duties  you  owe  to  God  and  her." 

"  It  cannot  be,  young  man,"  answered  Wilson.  "  Here, 
on  m}^  vitals,  the  vulture  will  prey  forever.  Besides, 
ought  one  so  young  and  fair  to  be  thus  buried,  for  a 
father's  guilt  ?  " 

"  She  will  have  sufficient  wealth  to  purchase  every 
luxury,"  replied  he  ;  "  and  no  doubt  she  would  think  the 
freedom  of  such  a  situation  perfect  paradise,  compared 
with  her  convent." 

"  Mr.  Percival,"  said  the  father,  taking  his  hand  most 
fervently,  "  had  I  sooner  met  with  one  that  would  have 
advised  me  thus,  —  one  whose  friendship  would  have 
soothed  my  tortured  soul,  —  I  should  not  have  been  the 
wreck  I  now  am.  Alas  !  how  little  are  the  strong  in 
virtue  aware  of  the  cruel  temptations  and  the  bitter  mis- 
ery of  a  heart  willing  to  return  to  the  paths  of  rectitude, 


118  THE    REBELS. 

if  the  voice  of  kindness  would  but  give  it  welcome  and 
encouragement !  " 

With  more  respect  than  he  had  yet  evinced,  Percival 
exhorted  him  to  convert  the  property  of  his  daughter 
into  money,  as  soon  as  she  came  into  possession  of  it, 
and  to  retire  to  some  country  unacquainted  with  his 
crimes,  where  he  might  fulfil  the  duties  of  a  citizen  and 
Christian. 

"Young  man,"  exclaimed  Wilson,  "I  forced  your 
uncle  to  make  a  will  in  my  favor ;  but  I  protest  I  am 
sorry  for  it,  from  the  bottom  of  my  soul." 

"  If  it  is  the  means  of  reforming  one  from  vice,  and 
of  making  another  happy,  I  shall  esteem  it  well  be- 
stowed. I  can  make  a  fortune  for  myself,"  rejoined  Per- 
cival. 

"  Then  ^^-ou  reject  the  idea  of  being  connected  with 
such  a  one  as  I  am  ? " 

Percival  then  frankly  told  him  of  the  captivating  being 
he  had  seen  in  the  procession  of  White  Nuns,  and 
expressed  his  wish  to  ascertain  her  character  and  history. 
Full  of  the  belief  that  the  person  described  was  his 
beloved  daughter,  V/ilson,  the  next  morning,  applied  to 
the  Lady  Abbess  for  an  interview. 

The  torment  of  the  never-dying  worm  ceased  for 
a  while,  when  the  fair  creature  clasped  him  to  her  heart, 
and  exclaimed,  "  Father,  dear  father  !  " 

"  Well,  Gertrude,"  said  he,  looking  on  her  with  great 
affection,  "  I  see  you  have  not  taken  the  black  veil." 

"  O  no  !     Did  you  think  I  ever  could  ?  " 

"  Then  you  still  wish  to  go  out,  and  look  upon  the  gay 
world  ?  " 

"  I  think,"  said  the  young  novitiate,  with  a  deep  sigh, 


THE    REBELS.  119 

that  I  should  come  back  here  more  contented,  if  I  could 
go  away  for  a  few  years." 

Smiling  at  casuistry  dictated  by  the  heart,  her  father 
answered,  "  I  mean  that  you  shall  return  to  New  Eng- 
land with  me,  my  love." 

Gertrude  clasped  her  hands,  with  an  exclamation  of 

joy- 

Her  father  smiled,  and  left  the  room.  When  he 
returned  with  Mr.  Percival,  animation  was  still  glowing 
on  her  fine  features. 

Both  blushed  deeply  when  they  were  introduced  ;  for 
each  remembered  having  seen  the  other,  the  preceding 
evening. 

Mr.  Wilson  eagerly  watched  their  countenances,  and 
saw  that  all  was  as  he  wished.  It  was  the  first  moment 
of  pure  enjoyment  he  had  known  for  years;  and  he  felt 
then  as  if  he  had  strength  to  be  all  that  his  unsuspecting 
child  believed  him. 

During  the  general  conversation  that  followed,  guile-  , 
lessness  of  thought  and  childlike  simplicity  of  manner 
completed  the  conquest  which  beauty  had  begun. 

The  hours  in  which  novitiates  were  allowed  to  receive 
visitors  having  -expired,  both  bade  Gertrude  farewell, 
with  a  promise  to  call  again  the  ensuing  morning. 

The  abbess  said  that  her  young  favorite  was  strangely 
bewildered,  during  that  day.  She  failed  to  respond  to 
the  "  Dominus  vobiscum"  of  the  priest,  and  the  hymn 
which  she  had  daily  sung  to  the  Holy  Mother,  for  many 
years,  escaped  from  her  memory. 

The  interview  terminated  much  as  Percival  had  hoped, 
and  even  expected.  Perhaps,  had  he  not  believed  the 
heiress  of  his  uncle  and  the  stately  devotee  to  be  the 


120  THE    REBELS. 

same,  he  would  not  have  acquiesced  so  quietly  in  the 
arrangements  of  Mr.  Wilson.  We  must  admit,  that  on 
his  way  to  the  convent  he  conjectured  whether,  in  case 
of  a  disappointment,  he  could  not  prove  his  uncle's  will 
to  have  been  obtained  by  force,  without  risking  the  life 
of  the  poor  old  man.  "  If  Wilson  is  disposed  to  be  vir- 
tuous," thought  he,  "  surely  a  handsome  legacy  is  suf- 
ficient to  give  his  daughter  honorable  support,  and  to 
keep  him  from  temptation." 

Very  different  ideas  occupied  his  mind,  as  he  re- 
turned. He  gazed  on  the  monastery  as  long  as  its  tow- 
ering roof  could  be  discerned.  "  How  glad  I  am," 
thought  he,  "  that  I  met  her  as  I  did  !  I  could  not  have 
been  in  love,  had  1  known  that  it  was  expected  of  me." 

As  for  Mr.  Wilson,  it  was  the  happiest  day  he  had 
known  since  his  youth ;  but  when  he  retired  to  rest,  he 
felt  a  sort  of  uneasy,  reluctant  wish  to  palliate  his  own 
crime ;  and  he  could  not  help  murmuring,  "  She  does 
look  cursedly  like  Fitzherbert." 

Necessary  business  detained  the  father  and  lover  a  few 
weeks,  which  no  doubt  passed  rapidly  and  delightfully 
enough.  Everything  that  Percival  heard  of  Gertrude, 
from  the  -abbess  and  nuns,  strengthened  the  impressions 
he  had  received. 

With  many  a  sigh,  and  many  a  bitter  tear,  the  unso- 
phisticated girl  bade  adieu  to  the  sisterhood  ;  (for  the  ties 
of  habit  are  not  easily  burst  asunder,  especially  when 
formed  in  seclusion,  and  riveted  by  daily  kindness ;)  and 
though  they  said  they  only  wept  at  giving  her  up  to  a 
sinful  world,  it  was  evident  they  yielded  to  the  strong 
current  of  natural  affection. 

When  the  bride  and  bridegroom  stood  before  the  altar 


THE    REBELS.  121 

in  the  church  where  they  first  met,  it  was  said  the  priest 
had  never  united  a  lovelier  couple.  Percival  was  some- 
what in  the  Adonis  style  of  beauty ;  and  might,  per- 
haps, have  been  charged  with  efTeminacy,  had  not  a 
highly-arched  nose,  and  a  general  loftiness  of  expression, 
redeemed  him  from  the  imputation. 

Gertrude  was  as  stately  as  the  Juno  of  Titian ;  and 
had  the  same  vivid  glow  of  life,  and  health,  and  beauty. 

These  charms  were  certainly  heightened  by  pearl- 
colored  damask,  and  Brussels  lace,  closely  fitted  to  her 
majestic  form ;  but  they  were  by  no  means  her  surest 
hold  upon  the  affections  of  her  high-minded  husband. 

Accustomed,  from  her  earliest  youth,  to  an  implicit 
obedience  to  a  superior,  whom  she  fondly  loved,  she  had 
acquired  a  most  charming  ductility  of  character ;  and 
now  that  she  was  to  be  introduced  to  a  world  of  which 
she  was  so  totaUy  ignorant,  she  peculiarly  felt  the  need 
of  some  guiding  hand.  To  her  husband,  therefore,  she 
looked  for  support  and  encouragement,  with  all  the  win- 
ning deference  of  woman's  gentlest  and  most  exclusive 

affection. 

11 


CHAPTER    XI. 

O,  luve  will  venture  in,  where  it  daur  na  weel  be  seen  ; 
O,  luve  will  venture  in,  where  wisdom  ance  has  been. 

Burns. 

Leaving  the  young  Canadians  to  enjoy  "  the  sacred 
lowe  o'  weel  placed  love,"  we  will  return  to  the  quiet 
library  of  the  pious  Mr.  Osborne,  the  republican  sim- 
plicity of  which  afforded  so  striking  a  contrast  to  the 
splendid  apartment  of  Governor  Hutchinson. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day  that  Wilson  com- 
menced his  journey  to  Quebec,  Grace  was  seated  at  her 
father's  table,  busily  engaged  in  painting  glass  —  a 
fashionable  amusement  at  that  period. 

The  door  gently  opened,  and  the  good-natured  coun- 
tenance of  Lucretia  Fitzherbert  presented  itself  to  her 
view. 

"  Why,  Grace,  how  long  it  is  since  I  have  seen  you ! " 
exclaimed  her  animated  friend.  "  For  three  long  days 
we  have  been  expecting  you.  Captain  Somerville  at 
last  grew  quite  angrj'',  —  so,  to  please  him,  I  came  to-day 
to  see  what  could  have  offended  your  ladyship." 

"Offended!  and  with  you?"  said  Grace,  in  a  re- 
proachful  tone.  "  I  assure  you,  I  have  wished  to  come  ; 
but  I  have  been  so  very  busy — " 

*'  I  wonder  what  has  busied  you  so  suddenly,"  inter- 
rupted Lucretia.  "  Have  you  been  making  linen  for 
brother  Henry  ?  or  knitting  warm  night-caps  for  papa  ?  " 

"The  first,"  rejoined  Grace,  smiling;   "and  then,  all 


THE    REBELS.  123 

the  leisure  moments  I  have  had,  I  have  been  practising 
on  my  spinnet,  tr}'ing  to  learn  those  pretty  songs  that  — 
you  like  so  well." 

"Umph,"  said  Lucretia,  with  the  most  provoking 
significance.  "  You  are  taking  likenesses,  too,  I  see. 
What  is  this  you  are  copj^ng  ?  " 

"It  is  the  head  of  a  young  naval  officer;  Sir  —  some- 
body—  I  have  forgotten  whom." 

"  How  much  it  looks  like  Somerville  ! "  said  Lucretia. 

"  Does  it  ?  "  rejoined  Grace,  blushing  deeply.  "  Per- 
haps it  may,  a  ver}^  little." 

"  Captain  Somerville  is  enthusiastic  about  painting," 
said  Lucretia.  "  How  I  do  wish  I  could  sketch  as  well 
as  you  can  I " 

Grace,  in  her  turn,  smiled  significantly. 

"  I  know  you  laugh  because  he  is  always  the  burden 
of  my  song,"  observed  Lucretia;  "but,  really,  if  you 
lived  in  the  same  house  vriih.  him,  you  could  not  but 
admire  —  very  much  admire,  his  sparkling  intelligence, 
his  ready  wit,  and  his  open  gallantry." 

"  And  my  enthusiastic  friend  places  so  much  confi- 
dence in  her  native  good  sense,  that  she  is  not  at  all 
afraid  of  admiring  him  too  much,  I  suppose  ?  "  inquired 
Grace. 

"I  think  nothing  about  it,"  rejoined  Lucretia.  "I 
am  very  happy;  and  that  is  all  I  am  sure  of.  As  for 
the  good  sense  you  are  pleased  to  talk  of,  —  Minerv'a's 
shield  has  withstood  many  a  fierce  attack ;  but  I  believe 
one  of  Cupid's  minikin  arrows  might  shiver  it." 

"  0,  Lucretia,  how  little  need  there  is  of  a  window 
to  your  heart  I  " 


124  THE    REBELS. 

"  Yours  is  carefully  muffled  in  a  thick  screen,  dear 
Grace ;  but  the  flame  will  shine  through." 

The  tears  started  to  Miss  Osborne's  eyes,  and,  forget- 
ting that  her  remark  would  apply  a  keen  reproof  to  her 
thoughtless  friend,  she  said,  "  What  have  I  done,  that 
you  should  accuse  me  of  being  deficient  in  the  delicacy 
which  should  ever  characterize  a  lady  ?  " 

"  Who  would  think  of  defending  herself  from  a  charge 
that  has  no  foundation  ? "  rejoined  Lucretia,  putting  her 
arms  round  her  neck,  with  girlish  affection. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  young  ladies  ?"  inquired  Henry 
Osborne,  who  entered  the  library  at  that  moment. 

"Nothing, —  only  I  have  offended  Grace,  as  I  often 
do  the  Graces,"  answered  Lucretia ;  "  and  so  I  have 
been  trying  to  atone  for  it.     What  news,  Henry?" 

"  None  that  will  particularly  interest  such  a  stanch 
little  toiy  as  you  are." 

"  Nay,  1  will  not  be  called  names,"  said  she,  gayly 
striking  him  with  her  parasol,  "unless  you  can  warp 
your  conscience  enough  to  call  me  by  the  old-fashioned 
name  of  angel.  In  good  earnest,  what  has  happened  in 
the  political  world  ?  " 

"  Accidents  similar  to  those  which  happen  every  day,'* 
rejoined  Osborne.  "Merely  a  few  mischievous  tricks 
upon  the  tories.  Mr.  Paxton's  horse,  after  being  lost 
some  days,  was  found  shut  up  in  the  Town  House, 
almost  starved  to  death ;  and  Doctor  Byles,  when  enter- 
ing his  house  this  morning,  was  assailed  by  a  violent 
shower  of  soot  and  water." 

"  How  did  he  bear  such  treatment  ?  "  asked  Lucretia. 

"  Just  as  you  would  suppose.  He  made  a  very  low 
bow,  and  said,  '  My  friends,  you  have  entirely  sooted  me.' " 


THE    REBELS.  125 

"  I  should  like  to  walk  there,"  said  Lucretia,  smiling ; 
"  it  is  several  days  since  I  have  seen  him." 

Grace  soon  arranged  her  neat  little  g}'psy  hat,  beneath 
which  her  golden  ringlets  escaped,  in  the  most  enchant- 
ing luxuriance ;  and  the  shawl  was  just  pinned  about 
her  neck,  with  Quaker  simplicity,  when  Somen'ille 
entered.  "  You  are  all  for  a  walk,  I  see,"  said  he, 
bowing  to  the  ladies.  "  I  have  arrived  most  fortu- 
nately." 

His  arm  was  offered  to  Grace,  and  he  was  not  a  little 
gratified  at  the  shght  tremor  she  betrayed  on  again 
meeting  him ;  nor  could  she,  with  all  her  diffidence,  help 
being  a  little  vain  of  her  infantile  beaut}",  since  it  had  so 
evidently  fascinated  Somerv'ille. 

True,  his  compliments  were  less  frequent  than  for- 
merly ;  for  Henr}',  ^^-ith  the  affectionate  earnestness  of 
an  anxious  brother,  had  cautioned  him  against  the  flat- 
ter}- so  likely  to  tarnish  the  purity  and  artlessness  of  her 
character.  Still,  however,  his  delighted  eye  acknowl- 
edged her  power,  and  she  was  not  ignorant  of  its 
meaning. 

During  this  walk,  it  seemed  as  if  he  exerted  his  un- 
common powers  of  pleasing  to  the  ver}^  utmost.  Now 
"  his  broad  sail  was  set  in  the  full,  deep  stream  of  argu- 
ment;" and  now,  every  one  was  watching  the  eddies 
of  his  wit,  as  they  sparkled,  and  broke,  and  whirled  away. 

The  rein  was  held  with  as  graceful  a  hand,  whether 

he  spurred  his  majestic  war-horse  to  the  battle,  pranced 

by  a  lady's  side  over  hill  and  dale,  or  appeared  on  the 

parade-ground  in  gala  dress,  performing  its  complicated 

evolutions  with  careless  dexterity. 

11# 


126  THE    REBELS. 

The  whole  company  were  in  high  spirits  when  Doctor 
Byles  met  them  at  his  door. 

"  Was  there  ever  such  an  evening  ?  "  said  he,  as  he 
came  out  to  welcome  them.  "  It  is  as  light  as  a  cork. 
I  am  glad  you  have  come,  my  young  friends ;  for  Mrs. 
Byles  and  the  girls  have  gone  to  see  a  sick  neighbor, 
and  I  was  just  wishing  somebody  would  come  and  take 
a  glass  with  me." 

"  A  most  unclerical  wish,"  observed  Henry  Osborne. 

"  Not  as  much  so  as  you  think,  young  man,"  replied 
the  clergyman,  displaying  a  fine  brass  telescope,  and 
motioning  them  to  follow  him  up  stairs. 

"  This  is  the  glass  I  offer  my  friends,"  continued  he, 
fastening  one  end  in  the  window-shutter,  and  placing  the 
other  in  Somerville's  hand. 

"I  call  this  chamber  my  observatory;  for,  stationed 
here  with  my  telescope,  I  can  observe-a-tory  all  over 
Boston." 

"  I  wish  the  search  was  as  seldom  rewarded  as  that 
of  Diogenes,  with  his  lantern,"  answered  Henry. 

"  No  doubt ;  but  the  '  prayer  of  the  wicked  availeth 
not,'  "  replied  Doctor  Byles. 

"  How  extremely  beautiful ! "  interrupted  Somerville, 
placing  the  telescope  in  Mr.  Osborne's  hand.  "  The  bay 
of  Naples  hardly  surpasses  this." 

Indeed,  beneath  the  rich  gush  of  autumnal  twilight, 
the  scene  was  indescribably  enchanting. 

The  broad  blue  harbor,  like  the  ocean  god,  reposing 
on  his  own  bright  throne ;  the  numerous  islands,  that 
seemed  like  infant  Naiads,  waiting  in  his  presence  ;  the 
neighboring  churches,  like  youthful  devotees,  pointing 
the  finger  of  faith  to  heaven ;  the  foliage,  rich  with  the 


THE    REBELS.  127 

hues  of  autumn ;  the  herds,  quietly  grazing  on  the 
adjoining  hills;  and  all  so  delightfully  mellowed  in 
distance  and  sunshine,  formed  a  landscape  that  Claude 
would  have  delighted  to  copy. 

Each  one,  in  succession,  gazed  upon  it,  till  the  strained 
vision  was  wearied.  As  they  laid  aside  the  telescope, 
Somerville  glanced  at  Grace,  and  said,  "  To  look  beyond 
the  smoke  and  din  of  the  town,  to  a  scene  so  lovely  and 
placid  as  that,  is  welcome  to  the  heart,  as  it  is  to  meet 
unpretending  goodness  and  unaffected  beauty  in  the 
midst  of  this  selfish,  artificial  world." 

"  Here,"  said  Doctor  Byles,  "  is  something  that  pre- 
cisely resembles  the  mind  of  a  whig;  for  their  reflections 
are  all  upside  down ;  "  —  and  he  placed  a  large  concave 
mirror  before  the  young  ladies. 

"If  the  images  are  inverted,  they  are  increased  in 
beauty,"  observed  Henry  Osborne. 

"  At  a  distance,  I  grant  ye  ;  but  examine  closely, 
young  man,  and  the  defects  are  glaring  enough.  My 
dear  girl,  step  up,  and  shake  hands  with  yourself." 

The  figure  of  the  little  sylph  seemed  to  come  forth 
from  the  glass,  as  she  advanced  toward  its  focus. 

"  Nobody  can  say  there  is  not  a  shadow  of  grace  about 
that  mirror,"  said  the  clergyman. 

"  But  you  can  say  there  is  not  a  shadow  of  beauty 
now,"  rejoined  Lucretia,  as  she  herself  moved  to  the 
glass. 

"  If  I  did  say  it,"  replied  Doctor  Byles,  "  I  would 
unite  with  the  learned  Bishop  of  Cloyne,  and  say,  it  is 
no  matter  —  all  is  mind*" 

"  How  brilliant  you  are  to-night !  "  exclaimed  Lu- 
cretia. 


i 


128  THE    REBELS. 

"  Nay,  it  is  you,  ladies,  who  are  bright,"  rejoined  he. 
"  When  you  both  came  in,  lounging  on  a  gentleman's 
arm,  I  could  not  but  think  3^ou  spark-led." 

"  Your  ammunition  is  never  exhausted,"  said  Somer- 
ville ;  "  one  may  always  be  sure  of  a  corps  de  reserve. 
There  is  one  of  my  acquaintance,  the  famous  Samuel 
Johnson,  to  whom  I  should  like  to  introduce  you ;  but, 
with  his  invincible  hatred  of  puns,  it  might  prove  dan- 
gerous." 

"  Wit  is  the  least  of  Doctor  Byles'  qualifications," 
said  Henry  Osborne. 

"  Young  man,  I  am  not  a  woman.  My  constitution 
does  not  need  the  gilded  pills  of  flattery,"  replied  the 
doctor. 

The  suddenness  with  which  he  changed  from  play- 
fulness almost  frivolous  to  dignity  bordering  on  stern- 
ness, produced  a  momentary  embarrassment  in  the  whole 
company. 

Lucretia,  who  knew  him  well,  was  the  first  to  break 
silence.  '*  It  is  the  way  the  doctor  sometimes  chooses 
to  cut  his  best  friends,"  said  she. 

Doctor  Byles  looked  very  angry ;  and  Somerville  per- 
ceiving it,  answered,  "  The  friends  of  Dr.  Byles  are 
never  cut,  though  often  wit-led." 

"  It  is  contagious,"  exclaimed  Henry  Osborne,  rising. 
"  Let  us  depart,  by  all  means." 

"  I  should  never  suspect  that  Mr.  Osborne  had  a  pre- 
disposition to  the  disease,"  replied  the  clergyman,  with 
his  usual  dry,  sarcastic  manner.  "But  come  into  my 
study,  Lucretia.  I  have  Goldsmith's  celebrated  Chinese 
Letters  ;  and  you  say  you  have  never  seen  them." 

The  first  object  that  met  their  view,  on  the  library 


THE    REBELS.  129 

table,  was  a  frightful  mask,  with  a  lighted  candle  within 
it,  surmounted  by  the  doctor's  wig. 

It  had  been  placed  there  by  some  mischievous  boys. 
"  You  see  the  spirit  of  rebellion  penetrates  to  our  very 
closets,"  obser\-ed  the  minister.  "  However,  the  wig 
does  but  cover  what  it  always  has,  '  a  burning  and  a 
shininor  liaht.'  " 

After  examining  the  books  and  some  beautiful  philo- 
sophical apparatus,  the  young  people  departed,  highly 
delio-hted  with  their  visit. 

"  The  evening  is  so  pleasant,"  observed  Henry,  "  that 
I  see  no  reason  why  we  should  not  extend  our  walk  to 
Koxbur}'." 

"  I  trust  we  shall  return  better  pleased  than  my  uncle 
did  from  his  nocturnal  excursion,"  said  Somerv^lle.  "  No 
one  cares  how  much  old  Townsend  is  tormented ;  but  it 
is  really  carr\'ing  the  joke  too  far,  when  such  men  as 
Governor  Hutchinson  and  Doctor  Byles  are  harassed  in 
this  way." 

"When  one  side  carry  a  joke  too  far,  it  must  be 
expected  that  the  other  will  return  it  by  such  means  as 
lie  in  their  power,"  rejoined  Osborne. 

"  You  must  not  begin  to  talk  politics,"  said  Lucretia ;" 
"  for  Captain   Somerville   never    speaks  all   he  thinks, 
before  you.     One  would  hardly  believe  he  could  be  the 
same  man  that  I  sometimes  hear  talk  with  Uncle  Hutch- 
inson." 

Somerville  looked  as  if  he  did  not  thank  her  for  thus 
lowering  him  in  the  estimation  of  ]\Iiss  Osborne  ;  and 
Henry  replied,  "  I  think  he  begins  to  be  a  proselyte  to 
the  righteous  cause.  I  have  a  mind  to  have  him  stop  to 
see  John,  on  purpose  to  give  him  a  good  commentary  on 


130  THE    REBELS. 

American   feeling.      He    lives    the   next   door   to   Mr. 
Townsend." 

The  man  of  whom  he  spoke  had  once  been  a  servant 
at  his  father's  ;  but  had,  to  use  his  own  expression,  "  laid, 
by  a  trifle  for  a  wet  day,"  and  was  now  a  thriving  New 
England  farmer. 

Everything  within  their  doors  indicated  industry  and' 
prosperity.  The  wdfe,  a  buxom,  sweet-tempered  looking 
matron,  was  supplying  four  or  five  white-headed  children 
with  bountiful  slices  of  brown  bread ;  and  if  she  did  not 
perform  the  simple  office  with  as  much  grace  as  Werter's 
Charlotte,  it  was  certainly  very  delightful  to  watch  her 
lobk  olr  maternal  love,  as  she  said,  "Hearty  souls!  it 
does  one  good  to  see  you  eat.  But  hush,  boys,  hush ! 
here  are  strangers  coming." 

The  mother  drew  her  cap  down  over  her  ears,  and 
smoothed  her  checked  apron;  then,  after  giving  them  a 
most  cordial  greeting,  she  showed  the  w^ay  into  a  neatly 
white-w^ashed  room,  the  floor  of  which  was  profusely 
sanded,  and  marked  with  a  variety  of  fantastic  figures, 
according  to  the  fashion  of  the  times. 

The  children,  in  the  mean  time,  stationed  one  to  peep 
'at  the  door,  who  would  now  and  then  run  to  report  pro- 
ceedings to  his  laughing  companions. 

"They  have  over  much  of  a  good  thing,"  said  the 
father.  "  The  rogues  love  liberty.  Away  with  you, 
boys  ! "  —  and,  waving  his  hand,  he  cleared  the  door  in  a 
moment.  An  instance  of  the  good  old-fashioned  obe- 
dience seldom  practised  in  these  degenerate  days. 

"  I  must  tell  you,"  continued  the  farmer,  "  that  you 
are  heartily  welcome.  Miss  Grace,  and  Mr.  Henry,  and 
Miss  Fitzherbert,  and  the  stranger  gentleman." 


THE    REBELS.  131 

"  I  foro-ot  to  mention  that  he  was  Captain  Somerville, 
Governor  Hutchinson's  nephew,"  observed  Henry. 

"  Perhaps  you  are  from  England,  then  ? " 

"  I  am,"  repUed  Somerville. 

"  And  may-be  you  will  tarry  some  time  in  the  colo- 
nies ? " 

"  That  is  entirely  uncertain,  sir." 

"  "Well,  it  is  none  of  my  business,  surely.  It  is  a^good 
country  that  you  came  from,  and  a  good  country  that 
you  have  come  to.  Both  the  Englands  are  good  ;  but 
I  am  sometimes  afeard  they  will  try  to  patch  the  old 
with  the  new,  till  they  make  the  rents  worse." 

"  England   has  no  need  of  patches,  my  good   sir," 
rejoined  Somerville. 

"  I  doubt  that  somewhat.  They  say  the  young  king 
has  some  German  notions,  which  he  would  be  much 
better  without.  Then  there  is  a  heavy  debt  will  go 
near  to  break  the  collar-bone,  if  it  is  carried  much 
longer;  and  them  who  have  the  care  of  it  are,  in  my 
humble  opinion,  no  more  fit  to  set  the  broken  bones  of  a 
nation  than  my  covfs  are  to  climb  a  ladder." 

"  Which  I  trust  they  never  will  do,"  said  Lucretia, 
laughing.  "  Mr.  Townsend  would  doubtless  be  sadly 
grieved  to  have  a  blade  of  his  grass  devoured  by  them." 

"  A  queer  man,  that  Mr.  Townsend,  beside  being  a 
torj","  answered  John  Dudley ;  "  but  he  that  is  with  him 
is  far  worse." 
I       "  Who  is  it  ? "  asked  Grace. 

"  He  calls  himself  Harry  Wilson ;  but  such  men  have 
a  name  for  every  port.  I  feel  scared  to  look  at  that 
house,  when  I  think  of  the  sin  there  is  between  its  four 
walls.     Odds  luck,  it  was  a  sight  to  see,  and  a  sound  to 


f 


132  THE    REBELS. 

hear,  the  night  the  whigs  sent  the  tories  there  on  such  a 
Tom-fool's  errand.  There  were  wheels  rattUng  —  and 
knocking  at  the  doors  —  and  laughing,  and  swearing  — 
and  there  were  lights  glimmering  round  in  corners  that 
never  saw  a  light  before.  The  old  man  was  sick  three 
days,  to  think  of  the  money  it  cost  him.  Wilson  tells 
folks  that  he  holds  a  whip  over  his  back,  and  that  he 
knows  how  to  get  the  silver  out  of  his  grip." 

"  Has  this  man  a  family?"  inquired  Lucretia.  "  How 
comes  he  to  be  so  much  with  Mr.  Townsend  ? " 

"  There  is  but  little  known  about  him,  in  these  parts," 
replied  Mrs.  Dudley;  "but  a  body  needs  only  look  in 
his  eye,  to  see  that  he  is  bad  enough.  Howsomever, 
there  is  one  above  us  who  knows  all  things,  and  will 
manage  them  as  seemeth  good  to  him. 

"  Mr.  Wilson  came  here,  t'  other  day,  and  told  us  that 
his  daughter  was  coming  from  Quebec ;  and  he  wanted 
us  to  let  her  have  one  of  our  tidy  chambers,  as  he  called 
them ;  — and  w^hen  we  were  at  a  stand,  as  it  were,  on 
account  of  his  character,  you  know,  he  said  that  if  she 
was  his  daughter,  she  was  a  lady,  and  had  had  gentle 
usage.  He  said  she  was  going  to  stay  here  only  a  few 
weeks ;  and  he  seemed  so  affected-like,  that  I  was  fain 
to  let  her  come.  So  I  have  whitened  the  counterpane, 
and  put  the  patch  curtains  up  at  the  window,  and  sanded 
the  floor  of  the  best  chamber." 

"  Poor  young  creature  !  "  said  Grace. 

"  She  is  young,"  rejoined  the  matron.  "  The  matter 
of  seventeen,  or  thereabouts.  May-be  you  will  come 
and  see  her,  young  ladies  ?  Her  heart  will  no  doubt  be 
sad,  in  a  strange  land.  Whist,  Hancock !  will  ye  not 
whist  ? " 


THE    REBELS.  133 

**  "What  do  you  call  your  sick  little  babe  ?  "  asked 
Lucretia. 

"  It  was  George,  for  the  king,  you  know.  Miss ;  but 
the  stamp  act  a'nt  likely  to  be  taken  off,  so  my  good  man 
would  change  it  to  John  Hancock." 

Miss  Fitzherbert  smiled,  and  looked  significantly  at 
Somerville,  as  she  said,  "  You  see  the  spirit  of  the  land." 

"  That  is  a  fine  man,  that  John  Hancock,"  said  the 
farmer.  "  He  is  a  true  friend  to  liberty  ;  and,  though  he 
is  college  larnt,  and  though  he  had  more  money  than  I 
could  reckon  left  him  a  year  ago,  he  is  as  ready  to  stop 
and  say,  '  How  do  you  do,  John  Dudley,'  as  my  own 
wife  would  be.  Poor,  dear  little  Hancock,"  continued 
he,  taking  the  child  from  his  mother,  and  rocking  him 
gently  in  his  arms,  "  I  hope  you  '11  be  as  good  a  man. 
You  must  make  haste,  —  yes  you  must,  —  Hancock,  — 
you  must  make  haste,  and  grow  strong  enough  to  be  a 
soldier."  With  a  more  sober  look,  he  added,  "  May-be 
they  '11  be  wanted,  in  this  oppressed  land,  before  you  are 
able  to  buckle  on  a  canteen." 

"  Hancock,  dear  Hancock  !  "  whispered  Grace,  as  she 
offered  him  an  orange,  and  kissed  the  bright  red  spot  on 
his  sickly  cheek. 

"  O,  yes,  Grace  can  kiss  him,  now  she  knows  his  rebel 
name,"  said  the  laughing  Lucretia. 

"  Almost  thou  persuadest  me  to  be  a  rebel,"  observed 
the  gallant  Englishman. 

Henry  looked  serious  and  uneasy.  He  did  not  like 
Scripture  quoted  with  so  much  irreverence ;  and  he 
feared  the  effects  of  a  kind  of  gallantry  to  which  his 
sister  had  been  so  entirely  unused. 

12 


134  -.THE    REBELS. 

"  I  believe  I  must  bid  you  good-night,  John,"  said  he, 
tisinsf. 

"  Surely  not,  sir,  till  you  have  tasted  a  drop  of  cider, 
that  I  made  on  my  owti  farm.  The  king  has  none 
better,  though  I  say  it  that  should  not  say  it." 

Upon  this  hint,  his  wife  took  a  plate  and  a  large  sil- 
ver can,  and  left  the  apartment. 

In  a  few  moments,  the  children  in  the  kitchen  were 
heard  crying,  "  Give  me  some,  mamma,  give  me  some  ! " 
and,  having  supplied  their  wants,  the  good-natured  mother 
reappeared,  with  her  rosy-cheeked  pears  and  foaming 
cider. 

"  It  may  seem  strange  for  the  like  of  me  to  have  a 
silver  mug,"  said  the  farmer;  "but  it  has  more  value  in 
it  than  the  metal  tells  for.  Governor  Dudley  brought  it 
over  himself;  and  there  has  not  been  many  a  better  man 
to  drink  after." 

His  ancestor,  his  can,  and  his  cider,  having  received 
abundance  of  praise,  he  urged  the  young  people  to  take 
as  much  fruit  as  they  would,  and  bade  them  good-night. 

The  young  gentlemen,  in  terms  of  unqualified  appro- 
bation, talked  of  the  frank  hospitality  and  downiright 
good  sense  of  their  host ;  and  as  the  farmer  closed  his 
gate  after  them,  he  could  not  refrain  from  saying,  "  They 
are  all  gentle-folks,  every  soul  of  them;  and  that  is  a 
name  that  means  a  good  deal  to  them  that  understand  it 
right." 

*'  That 's  true,  my  good  man,"  said  his  wife.  "  That 
Captain  Somerville  has  a  frank  way  with  him ;  and 
don't  show  a  speck  of  pride, — though  he  is  Hutchinson's 
nephew." 

On  their  way  home,  Somerville  walked  with  Miss 


THE    REBELS.  135 

Osborne ;  and  Lucretia,  of  course,  accepted  the  proffered 
ann  of  Mr.  Osborne. 

O,  how  dangerous  may  one  brief  evening  prove  to 
the  sliding  hearts  of  the  youthful  and  the  guileless ;  and . 
how  tasteless  is  everything  in  life,  compared  with  the 
sparkling  cup  that  young  love  offers  before  we  know  his 
name  ! 

Grace  returned  home  with  an  elasticity  of  spirit  unu- 
sual to  her  placid  nature ;  and  when,  after  the  family 
devotions  were  concluded,  she  stooped  to  kiss  her  vener- 
able father,  before  she  retired  to  rest,  he  could  not  but 
speak  of  the  beaming  happiness  her  angelic  countenance 
expressed. 

"Dear  Grace,"  said  Henry,  passing  his  arm  round  her 
neck,  "I  have  something  to  say  to  you;  and  I  will  say  it 
in  the  presence  of  our  good  father." 

His  sister  looked  up  inquiringly. 

"You  must  haA^e  suspected  how  much  interest  Doctor 
Willard  takes  in  you?"  said  he. 

"I  know  he  is  a  friend  to  us  all,"  replied  she,  with 
extreme  embarrassment. 

"Yes,  dear  sister,  he  is  a  friend  to  us  all;  and  for  your 
sake,  he  loves  us  all.  Yfith  a  brother's  frankness,  he 
has  commissioned  me  to  tell  you  so." 

"And  what  does  my  daughter  say  to  this?"  asked 
her  father,  in  a  tone  of  anxious  tenderness. 

"I  feel  very,  very  grateful  to  Doctor  Willard;  bat — " 

"  But  what?"  interrupted  her  brother.  "  YvHiat  can  a 
woman  desire  in  a  lover,  that  is  not  united  inliis  char- 
acter ?  There  is  virtue,  genius,  a  good  family,  genteel 
manners,  personal  beauty,  and  a  generous  heart,  that  has 
long  been  most  sincerely  devoted  to.you."  - 


13^  THE    REBELS. 

"He  is  more  than  I  expect — more  than  I  deserve," 
rejomed  Grace. 

"  And  what  shall  I  tell  hhn  ? "  whispered  Henr}^ 

"Tell  him  to  seek  some  one  who  deserves  his  affec- 
tion, and  can  return  it." 

"Are  you  aware,"  said  her  father,  in  a  tone  of  severe 
disappointment,  "can  you  be  aware  what  a  treasure  you 
are  throwing  from  you  ?" 

"I  am — I  am,"  exclaimed  Grace,  bursting  into  tears; 
"but  I  cannot  love  him." 

"Will  you  tell  me  why?"  asked  her  brother,  in  an 
insinuating  voice. 

"I  have  no  reason  to  give,"  she  replied. 

"Has  no  one  else  won  your  pure  heart?" 

"  0  no,  indeed ;  no  other  one  ever  sought  it." 

"  I  know  it  would  never  unsought  be  won,  if  you  were 
aware  of  it,"  rejoined  Henr}^  "But  you  are  very 
young,  and  I  fear  you  will  allow  'a  passing  pleasing 
tongue,'  and  the  fascination  of  a  polished  manner,  to 
outweigh  goodness  of  heart  and  dignity  of  character." 

"Talents  and  education  are  of  great  value,"  inter- 
rupted her  father ;  "  but  we  must  not  forget  that  the  tree 
of  knowledge  yields  not  the  same  fruit  as  the  tree  of  life. 
Fixed  religious  principles,  and  an  amiable  disposition,  are 
of  more  consequence  to  domestic  happiness  than  all  that 
wealth,  or  beauty,  or  genius,  can  offer.  It  was  these 
qualities,  in  your  dear  mother,  that  for  thirty  years  made 
me  the  happiest  of  men.  It  was  these  inestimable  qual- 
ities that  made  you  what  you  are,  my  children."  As  he 
spoke,  the  tear  that  fell  upon  his  hand  betrayed  how 
dear  was  the  wife  that  had  for  years  lain  in  the  silent 
grave. 


THE    REBELS.  137 

With  kindness  which  seemed  like  cinielty,  Henry  said : 
"  Some  people  admire  beauty,  wherever  they  find  it. 
Doctor  Willard  would  love  you,  if  you  should  lose  that 
fading  flower.  Other  friends  may  have  lofty  and  gener- 
ous feelings,  —  they  may  be  greatly  gifted  by  nature ; 
but  their  worth  has  not  been  tried,  like  his.  Something 
novel  in  character,  or  m.ore  rare  in  loveliness,  may  erase 
a  transient  impression.  A  meteor  may  be  dazzling,  but 
we  cannot  calculate  its  orbit. 

"I  understand  you,"  said  she;  "but  indeed  you 
A\Tong  me.  If  I  do  not  love  Doctor  Willard,  I  ought  not 
to  marry  him,  if  I  v\'ould.  But,  indeed,  indeed,  I  have 
no  such  reason  as  you  suppose." 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  Mr.  Osborne,  tenderly  taking 
her  hand,  "  you  have  never,  in  your  whole  life,  told  me 
an  untruth.  Do  not  let  me  go  to  my  pillow  with  the 
fear  that  you  have  deceived  your  earthly  father,  and 
sinned  against  your  heavenly  one." 

Tears  fell  fast  on  the  heaving-  bosom  of  the  timid  and 
ingenuous  Grace.  She  burst  from  the  embrace  of  her 
excellent  parent,  saying,  "  Some  other  time,  dear  father, 
some  other  time,  we  will  talk  of  this." 

Pitying  her  extreme  distress,  neither  of  them  attempt- 
ed to  prevent  her  departure.  Both  retired  to  rest,  exceed- 
ingly anxious  concerning  a  delusion,  which,  from  the 
character  of  its  object,  they  could  not  imagine  would 
terminate  happily  for  the  fair  being  that  indulged  it. 

12=^ 


CHAPTER    XII. 

But  had  I  wist,  before  I  kissed, 
That  luve  had  been  sae  ill  to  win, 
I  had  locked  my  heart  in  a  kist  of  gold, 
And  pinned  it  wi'  a  siller  pin. 

Old  Scotch  Sonsr. 


o 


For  several  weeks,  our  young  friends  kept  the  "noise- 
less tenor  of  their  way,"  without  meeting  any  other 
danger  than  that  of  frequent  and  delightful  intercourse. 
Grace  visited  less  and  less  frequently  at  Lucretia's  lodg- 
ings, but  the  visits  she  received  from  Somerville  were  far 
too  numerous  to  please  her  affectionate  and  judicious 
connections.  Perfectly  aware  of  this,  and  sometimes 
chilled  by  the  fastidious  reserve  of  the  little  beauty, 
Somerville  became  more  absent,  irritable  and  negligent, 
than  Lucretia  had  ever  seen  him.  The  inattention, 
which  originated  entirely  in  thoughtlessness,  seemed  to 
her  to  be  peculiarly  pointed ;  and  she  began  to  fear  that 
the  gayety  and  frankness  of  her  nature  had  been  mis- 
taken for  undue  levity.  Painful  as  this  idea  might  be,  it 
was  the  medicine  her  diseased  mind  required.  Pride 
took  possession  of  a  heart  transparent  as  it  was  suscepti- 
ble, and  it  was  soon  evident  that  she  was  exerting  all  her 
good  sense  to  overcome  the  fascination  to  which  she  had 
60  foolishly  yielded.  But  when  we  have  long  allowed 
our  feelings  to  spurn  at  restraint,  it  requires  a  giant's 
hand  to  curb  them ;  and  though  Lucretia  possessed  great 


THE    REBELS.  139 

purity  and  rectitude  of  purpose,  the  important  lesson  of 
self-control  was  one  she  had  never  learned.  The  ma- 
terials for  a  delightful  and  highly-finished  character 
were  rich  and  ample, — but  want  of  judgment  in  the 
artist  had  marred  the  original  design;  and  the  mind 
that  might  have  been  a  noble  Corinthian  pillar  now 
only  displa3^ed  a  few  beautiful  specimens,  which,  like 
the  Elgin  marbles,  served  to  betray  the  perfection  of  the 
column. 

It  has  been  well  observed,  that  there  is  a  time,  in  the 
lives  of  most  people,  when  character  fearfully  fluctuates 
in  the  balance ;  and  when  circumstances,  apparently 
accidental,  ma}'  do  much  to  decide  it,  either  to  good  or 
evil.  Henr\'  Osborne  was  aware  that  the  present  period 
was  a  very  important  one  to  ?vliss  Fitzherbert ;  and  he 
feared  that  the  influence  of  Somerv-ille  was  anything  but 
beneflcial.  The  fearless  reasoning,  the  contempt  of  quiet 
A'iriues,  the  restlessness  under  the  salutar}'  shackles  of 
.societ}'',  against  which  a  vigorous  understanding  and  a 
glowing  unagination  ought  to  be  peculiarly  guarded, 
were  all  increased  bj^  his  bold  and  brilliant  conversation. 
Perhaps  a  long-cherished  attachment  to  Lucretia  had 
made  Mr.  Osborne  particularly  keen-sighted  to  the  faults 
of  his  rival ;  but  so  wise,  so  prudent,  had  he  been,  while 
under  the  dominion  of  that  blind  boy,  who  is  wont  to 
writhe  and  stamp  so  furiously  in  the  chains  of  reason, 
that  the  state  of  kis  aflections  had  never  been  suspected 
by  their  object.  However,  it  had  long  been  sufficiently 
obvious  to  Miss  Sandford ;  and  she  could  not  so  far  over- 
come her  established  prejudices  as  to  prefer  his  simple 
manners  and  unpretending  good  sense  to  the  elegance 
and  genius  of  the  high-bom  Englishman.     "With  con- 


140  THE    REBELS. 

strained  politeness,  therefore,  she  received  him,  as  he 
entered,  according  to  his  usual  custom,  just  as  the  ladies 
had  retired  from  the  tea-table  to  the  drawing-room. 
Governor  Hutchinson  was  engaged  in  his  library,  and 
Mr.  Osborne  was  too  frequent  a  guest  to  disturb  his 
arrangements.  Somerville  laid  down  the  paper  he  Vv^as 
busily  reading,  and  gave  him  a  hearty  welcome ;  and 
Lucretia,  piqued  at  the  silence  and  absent  manner  of  her 
companion,  received  him  with  uncommon  frankness  and 
cordiality.  He  brought  with  him  the  spirited  paper  at 
that  time  edited  by  Edes  and  Giil;  and  smiled  with 
much  significance,  as  he  pointed  out  to  Somerv'ihe  the 
bold  resolutions  that  had  been  passed  in  most  of  the 
colonies. 

"  The  spirit  of  New  England  may  break,  but  you 
perceive  that  it  will  never  bend,"  observed  Osborne. 

"  I  should  despise  them,  if  it  did,  after  having  gone 
thus  far,"  rejoined  Somerville.  "  Indeed,  there  is  little 
danger  of  it,  as  long  as  you  have  such  writers  as  this," 
pointing  to  the  signature  of  Hyperion. 

"  Whom  do  you  suppose  it  to  be  ?" 

"  No  one  can  hesitate  to  decide,"  said  Somerville. 
"  Otis  pours  forth  his  eloquence  like  the  streaming  lava 
of  Vesuvius,  melting  and  scorching  as  it  runs ;  May- 
hew  writes  with  tJie  readiness  of  a  scholar,  and  with  a 
fiery  and  vehement  zeal,  strangely  at  variance  with  his 
mild,  dispassionate  character;  but  whose  pages  burn 
with  a  flame  so  strong,  bright  and  fervent,  as  Quincy's  ? 
His  style  is  lucid  as  a  waveless  lake,  and  it  has  the 
muscle  of  a  Hercules." 

"  Perhaps  j^ou  have  altered  your  opinion,  that  it  is  not 
X     worth  while  for  England  to  search  for  talents  in  so  poor 


THE    REBELS.  141 

a  market  as  her  colonies,"  said  Henr}',  smiling  at  his 
enthusiastic  manner. 

Lucretia  gave  an  incredulous  and  significant  look,  as 
if  she  would  say,  "  He  does  not  always  talk  thus." 

"That  I  have  found  more  wealth,  intellect,  and 
refinement,  in  America,  tlian  my  English  education, 
taught  me  to  expect,  is  certainly  most  true,"  replied 
Somerville ;  "  and  whatsoever  I  believe,  I  frankly  con- 
fess, notwithstanding  Miss  Fitzherbert  expresses,  by  her 
looks,  that  I  am  guilty  of  double-dealing." 

"  These  are  sad  times,"  observed  Miss  Sandford. 
*'  The  king  condescends  too  much,  for  the  sake  of  pleas- 
ing his  refractor}'  subjects.  It  is  a  pity  the  good  old 
days  of  Richard  I.  could  not  be  restored,  when  the 
castles  of  the  boldest  barons  belonged  to  the  monarch, 
from  the  corner-stone  to  the  topmost  turret." 

"Nay,  Madam  Sandford,  the  world  is  too  old  for  such 
leading-strings,"  replied  Henry  Osborne.  "  You  your- 
self would  hardly  wish  for  the  return  of  old  times,  with 
all  their  appendages.  I  query  whether  the  preaching 
of  Doctor  Byles  would  not  be  more  acceptable  to  you 
than  Hugh  Latimer,  when  he  proclaimed  to  the  female 
part  of  his  audience,  '  Ye  are  underlings  !  underlings,  — 
and  must  be  obedient.'  " 

"  For  the  love  of  quiet,"  said  Lucretia,  "  do  not  set 
that  ball  a  rolling ;  for  do  but  name  the  words  '  female 
inferiority'  before  Aunt  Sandford,  and  it  will  go  like  a 
bullet  on  an  inclined  plane,  every  step  accelerating  its 
motion." 

•  "In  my  youth,  children  were  not  in  the  habit  of  dic- 
tating what  should  be  said  to  their  elders,"  rejoined 
Miss  Sandford. 


142  THE    REBELS. 

Lucretia  whispered  something  that  seemed  to  concili- 
ate the  offended  maiden;  and  Somendlle  resumed  the 
conversation  by  saying,  "  One  must  be  difficult  to 
please,  if  they  are  not  satisfied  with  the  preaching  of 
Doctor  Byles.  His  style  unites  the  elegance  of  Addi- 
son with  the  fervent  piety  of  Flavel." 

"  Of  his  warm  and  genuine  devotion  I  have  no 
doubt,"  replied  Henry;  "though  most  of  his  audience 
remember  his  jests  better  than  they  do  his  religious 
advice :  but  I  must  confess  that  his  style  is  too  florid  to 
meet  my  ideas  of  pulpit  eloquence.  So  rich  an  imagi- 
nation is  singular  in  a  man  of  his  years  and  deep  learn- 
ing. In. his  sermons  it  shows  itself  in  language  fanciful 
and  brilliant ;  and  in  his  conversation  it  bursts  forth  in 
the  boldest  and  most  eccentric  comparisons.  To  this 
we  owe  the  continual  flashing-  of  his  wit ;  and  thoug-h  I 
know  him  to  possess  uncommon  erudition,  sincere  piety, 
and  the  most  unyielding  integrity,  I  cannot  but  think 
this  sparkling  trait  of  character  is  too  luxuriantl}-  over- 
grown. I  never  see  any  one  quality  of  the  mind  stand- 
ing forth  so  prominently,  without  thinking  of  one  of  the 
finest  passages  in  Bacon's  philosophy  :  '  In  forming  the 
»  human  character,'  says  he,  '  we  must  not  proceed  as  a 
statuary  does  in  forming  a  statue,  who  works  sometimes 
on  the  face,  sometimes  on  the  limbs,  sometimes  on  the 
folds  of  the  drapery ;  but  we  must  proceed  (and  it  is  cer- 
tainly in  our  power)  as  nature  does  in  forming  a  flower, 
or  any  other  of  her  productions ;  she  throws  out,  alto- 
gether, and  at  once,  the  whole  system  of  being,  and  the 
rudiments  of  all  the  parts.'  " 

"It  is  a  beautiful  passage,  indeed,"  rejoined  Somer- 
ville ;  "  but  a  character  formed  on  such  a  plan  must  be 


THE    REBELS.  143 

intolerably  flat.  In  good  truth,  I  dislike  a  character 
formed  at  all.  Give  me  nature,  bold,  impetuous,  and 
unrestrained.  It  is  as  much  preferable  to  all  your  arti- 
ficial modes,  as  the  foaminof  cataracts  and  towerinof 
mountains  of  Switzerland  are  to  the  well-built  dikes  and 

the  dead  level  of  the  Netherlands." 

« 

"If  it  were  possible  for  nature  to  pursue  an  unbiased 
course,"  replied  Osborne,  "  to  give  her  the  reins  would 
be  a  hazardous  experiment,  though  in  some  instances  it 
might  prove  a  fortunate  one ;  but  the  fact  is,  we  are  so 
much  the  creatures  of  adventitious  circumstance,  that  it 
is  utterly  impossible.  She  is  always  receiving  impulses 
from  surrounding  objects ;  and  if  the  impetus  is  violent, 
it  is  two-fold ;  for  it  gives  the  tendency  to  rebound  to 
the  other  extreme.  I  admire  an  harmonious,  well- 
adjusted  character,  be  it  formed  as  it  may.  He  who 
gives  himself  up  to  the  absorbing  power  of  any  one 
single  passion,  may  draw  the  eyes  of  all  mankind 
toward  him ;  but  qualities  of  a  milder  and  more  consist- 
ent cast  constitute  the  chief  charm  of  domestic  life." 

"  I  repeat  that  I  dislike  everything  like  made-up  good- 
ness," said  Somerville.  "It  is  apt  to  be  like  brass  plated 
with  silver  —  in  the  long  run,  it  will  show  its  materi- 
als." 

"  You  are  very  right,  Captain  Somerville,"  answered 
Miss  Sandford.  "  Your  over-righteous  ones  generally 
prove  to  be  the  most  consummate  hypocrites." 

"  Perhaps  h}"pocrisy  is  the  real  name  of  what  the 
world  generally  calls  virtue,"  rejoined  the  young  sceptic. 

"  It  is  too  much  the  case,  in  these  days,  to  be  sure," 
answered  the  maiden. 

Henry  was    about   to   enter   into    a   vindication    of 


144  THE    REBELS. 

aspersed  humanity ;  but  he  well  knew  Lucretla's  disdain 
of  all  beaten  tracks,  and  he  feared  the  effect  of  new  and 
bold  ideas  elicited  from  the  daring  mind  of  Somervdlle. 

*'  Doctor  Franklin  is  a  good  example  of  the  system  I 
have  supported,"  said  he.  "  Such  a  character,  instead 
of  plated  brass,  is  solid  silver,  taken  from  the  mine,  and 
skilfully  fashioned  into  useful  forms.  Never  was  there 
a  man  who  owed  so  much  to  self-exerted  discipline  as 
he  does.  I  remember,  in  the  long  conversation  I  had 
with  him  the  night  before  he  sailed  to  England,  he 
minutely  detailed  the  process  by  which  he  had  attained 
so  much  self-control.  He  made  a  list  of  the  thirteen 
virtues  he  thought  most  necessary,  and  to  each  one  he 
paid  particular  and  undivided  attention,  for  one  week. 
Thus,  one  week  he  would  refrain  from  speaking  evil  of 
others ;  another,  he  would  abstain  from  ever^^thing  not 
absolutely  necessary  to  life  and  comfort;  and  so  on.  At 
the  end  of  every  quarter,  the  circle  commenced  anew. 
There  was  sound  philosophy  in  this,  —  for  as  each 
virtue  was  successively  impressed  upon  the  mind  at  suc- 
ceeding intervals,  no  one  had  a  chance  to  attain  a  giant 
growth  at  the  expense  of  others. 

"  If  I  found  any  virtue  peculiarly  stinted,  I  would  give 
it  a  double  portion  of  cultivation.  Those  who  are  prone 
to  do  heedless  things  would  do  well  to  appropriate  two 
weeks,  in  every  quarter,  to  the  very  necessary  virtue 
called  prudence." 

" "  You  look  as  if  you  wished  that  remark  should  be 
individually  appropriated,"  said  Lucretia ;  "  and  perhaps 
you  would  tell  the  same  person  to  foster  judgment  as  if 
it  were  a  hot-house  plant,  and  trust  imagination  to  its 
own  wild,  spontaneous  growth." 


THE    REBELS.  145 

*'  Since  you  understand  me  so  well,"  replied  Osborne, 
smiling,  "I  will  add,  that  whatever  point  of  character 
we  find  the  weakest  should  be  the  most  sedulousl}'  forti- 
fied;  and,  for' this  purpose,  the  choice  of  friends  and  of 
books  is  equally  important." 

"  Ah,  well ! "  said  Lucretia,  in  the  careless  gayety  of 
her  heart,  "  you  must  bear  with  me  just  as  I  am,  a  few 
years  longer ;  and  then  I  will  promise  to  be  so  collected, 
so  prudent  I  —  -\Iy  feelings  shall  be  just  as  calm  as  the 
river  in  summer's  moonlight.  I  will  choose  my  friends 
among  the  Quakers,  and  read  nothing  but  '  The  Saint's 
Rest,'  or  'Universal  Love  Established  on  a  Eight  Found- 
ation.' " 

With  much  emphasis,  Mr.  Osborne  replied,  "  I  should 
rather  see  particular  love  established  on  a  right  founda- 
tion." 

Fearing  he  had  trusted  himself  too  far,  he  rose,  and 
opening  Thomson's  Seasons,  which  lay  on  the  work- 
table  of  the  ladies,  he  carelessly  looked  over  its  contents, 
and  then  observed  he  must  return  home  to  ^^Tite  a  letter, 
before  the  evening  was  far  advanced.  Somerville  imme- 
diately proposed  to  Miss  Fitzherbert  that  they  should 
both  accompany  him.  Lucretia  coldly  declined,  pre- 
tending she  feared  the  efiects  of  evening  dampness ;  and 
the  young  men,  having  expressed  their  regret,  took  their 
hats,  and  bade  good-evening. 

None  of  us  are  to  blame  for  having  selfish  and  evil 
thoughts ;  for  imperfections  will  cling  to  our  fallen 
nature :  but  when  we  cherish  them  for  a  moment  — 
more  especially,  when  we  give  utterance  to  them  —  we 
are  guilty  of  giving  form  and  permanence  to  what  would 
otherwise  be  fleeting  and  shadowy. 

13 


146  THE    REBELS. 

t 

Miss  Sandford  was  too  apt  to  do  this ;  and  scarcely 
bad  the  door  closed,  before  she  exclaimed,  "  I  do  not 
like  that  Grace  Osborne,  with  all  the  sweetness  and 
modesty  she  chooses  to  put  on." 

Lucretia  had,  unconsciously,  been  tying  knot  after 
knot  in  her  thread,  little  aware  that  her  friend  suspected 
all  that  was  passing  in  her  mind.  The  tears  started  to 
her  eyes,  as  she  replied,  "  I  am  sure,  dear  aunt,  she  is 
every  thing  that  is  amiable  and  lovely." 

"  Nevertheless,  with  all  her  pretty  diffidence,  I  do  not 
doubt  she  tries  her  best  to  get  Somerville  away  from 
you." 

"  Away  from  me ! "  said  Lucretia,  with  a  look  of 
extreme  surprise. 

"  I  mean,"  answered  Miss  Sandford,  laying  down  the 
screen  she  had  been  working,  and  sweeping  up  the 
hearth  in  a  great  flurry,  "  I  mean  that  Somerville  re- 
spects you  very  much,  and  would  maiTy  you,  if  those 
deuced  Osbomes  were  out  of  the  way." 

Lucretia  smiled  at  the  good  old  lady's  perturbation. 
"  Captain  Somerville's  heart,"  said  she,  "  is  like  the 
waves  cut  by  a  passing  vessel  —  a  moment  after,  you 
can  find  no  traces  of  an  impression.  Grace  Osborne 
can  never  be  in  my  way.  I  have  always  loved  her ;  — 
and  if  Somerville  can  win  her  heart,  and  she  can  keep 
his,  I  shall  surely  be  rejoiced  to  see  a  man  I  value  so 
much  united  to  a  being  so  pure  and  lovely." 

"  The  whole  family  are  over  good,  and  very  prodigal 
of  their  advice,"  rejoined  the  matron.  "  I  wonder  what 
right  Henry  has  to  direct  the  books  you  shall  read,  and 
the  friends  you  shall  choose." 

"  He  did  not  mean  to  direct,  dear  madam ;  but  I  am 


TTIE    REBELS.  147 

SO  much  with  Grace,  that  he  feels  the  same  freedom  in 
talkinor  to  me  that  he  does  to  her.  I  am  sure  I  thank 
him  for  his  friendship  and  candor." 

"  It  is  more  than  I  do,"  retorted  the  maiden,  whose 
fretfulness  was  not  to  be  speedily  appeased.  "  Grace, 
with  all  her  perfections,  is  the  veriest  little  coquette. 
Don't  look  me  in  the  face  with  as  much  wonder  as  if  I 
had  said  vou  had  not  common  sense  !  I  know  they  are 
all  your  oracles ;  and  I  dare  say  you  will  finish  the 
business  by  marrying  the  prosing  young  man  who  has 
given  you  so  sage  a  lecture  to-night." 

"  There  seems  ver}'  little  chance  for  it,"  replied  Lu- 
cretia, —  "since  such  a  thought  probably  never  entered 
the  young  gentleman's  brain." 

"  You  need  not  tell  me  that.  I  have  seen  this  thing 
coming  on,  for  more  than  three  years.  He  would  have 
made  proposals,  before  now,  if  he  had  known  of  the  large 
fortune  you  are  to  have." 

The  attempt  to  vindicate  her  friends  from  such  un- 
founded charges,  would  have  been,  just  at  that  time, 
entirely  useless.  Lucretia,  who  well  understood  the 
avenues  to  her  heart,  gave  a  more  pleasant  turn  to  the 
conversation,  by  acknowledging  the  old  lady's  experience 
in  the  affairs  of  the  heart,  and  thus  leading  her  to  dwell, 
for  the  thousandth  time,  on  the  rejected  addresses  of 
her  youth. 

When  Miss  Fitzherbert  retired  to  her  chamber,  she 
took  with  her  the  book  which  a\Ir.  Osborne  had  opened, 
intending  to  search  for  a  passage  particularly  admired 
by  Somer^dlle.  The  volume  opened  of  itself,  and  dis- 
played a  note  neatly  folded,  and  directed  to  herself. 
She  opened  it,  and  read  as  follows : 


148  the  rebels. 

"  Dear  Madam  : 

"I  hardly  know  how  to  account  for  the  diffidence 
I  feel  in  addressing  you.  The  usual  exaggerated  lan- 
guage of  affection  would,  I  well  know,  appear  ridiculous 
to  you ;  and  coldness,  or  reserve,  is  but  ill  suited  to  the 
present  state  of  my  feelings.  The  declaration  that  I 
have  been,  for  years,  most  sincerely  and  devotedly  at- 
tached to  you,  may  not  perhaps  be  entirely  unexpected ; 
and  I  once  hoped  it  would  not  be  entirely  disagreeable. 
You  do  not  owe  your  influence  over  me  to  a  sudden 
freak  of  fancy;  it  results  from  a  long  and  intimate 
knowledge  of  your  character.  Yet  I  will  not  flatter  you 
by  saying  I  consider  you  faultless ;  —  on  the  contrary,  I 
think  you  have  defects,  which  may  prove  very  dangerous 
to  yourself  and  friends,  unless  tunely  corrected.  But  1 
cannot  imagine  a  character  more  elevated  than  might  be 
formed  from  a  mind  so  vigorous,  and  a  heart  so  generous 
and  (Candid,  as  yours. 

"  How  largely  I  think  you  would  contribute  to  domes- 
tic happiness,  is  proved  by  the  step  I  have  now  taken. 
Whether  the  lovely  garland  of  hope,  that  my  heart  has 
so  long  been  weaving,  is  to  be  scattered  to  the  winds, 
depends  on  your  answer.  At  all  events,  ever  your  affec- 
tionate friend,  and  obedient  servant, 

Henry  Osborne." 

"  Umph,"  said  Lucretia,  as  she  folded  the  letter,  "  I 
say,  with  Cowley, 

*  I  could  not  love,  I  'm  sure, 
One  who  in  love  were  wise.'  " 

With  a  promptitude  for  which  she  did  not  stop  to 
account  to  her  own  heart,  she  thanked  Mr.  Osborne 


THE    REBELS.  149 

for  the  confidence  he  had  placed  in  her,  and  expressed 
an  affectionate  interest   in  his  welfare  and  happiness; 
but  declared  that  it  was  utterly  impossible  for  her  ever 
to  reciprocate  his  attachment. 
13^ 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

He  dies,  and  makes  no  sign !  —  O  God,  forgive  him  ! 

So  bad  a  death  argues  a  monstrous  life. 

Henry  VI. 


'o^ 


On  a  damp  and  chilly  evening,  at  the  commencement 
of  November,  the  peaceful  family  circle  at  Mr.  Osborne fe 
was  disturbed  by  a  loud  and  hasty  knock  at  the  outer 
door.  It  proved  to  be  John  Dudley,  evidently  agitated, 
and  out  of  breath  with  exertion. 

"  You  will  excuse  me,  sir,  for  coming  upon  you  in 
this  way,"  said  he,  bowing  to  the  elder  ]\Ir.  Osborne  ;  — 
"  but  where  there  is  good  to  be  done,  I  know  you  are 
always  fond  of  going," 

"  Very  true,  John ;  and  of  what  service  can  I  be 
now  ? " 

"  Why,  Miss  Grace  remembers  that  my  good  woman 
told  her  about  AVilson's  daughter,  that  was  coming  to 
board  with  us.  "Well,  sure  enough,  she  came,  with  a 
young  man,  who,  they  say,  is  her  new-married  husband ; 
and  as  comely  a  couple  they  are  as  ever  I  looked  oh. 
She  has  a  noble  way  with  her,  that  makes  her  seem  like 
a  duchess ;  and  he  is  as  rosy  and  fresh  as  seventeen. 
Howsomever,  that 's  neither  here  nor  there.  They  are  as 
unliappy  now  as  the  oldest  and  the  ugliest.  Her  father 
is  dying,  —  and  oh,  such  a  hard  death!  'The  doctor 
says  he  is  pisoned;  and  my  Rebecca  looks  hard  at  old 
Townsend." 

To  their  brief  inquiries,  Dudley  rapidly  answered,  that 


THE    REBELS.  151 

about  half  an  hour  before,  Mr.  Percival  had  come  in,  as 
pale  as  ashes,  and  begged  him  and  his  wife  to  go  to  Mr. 
Townsend's;  and  that,  when  they  arrived  there,  they 
found  Mr.  Wilson  in  dreadful  fits,  crj'ing  out  for  a  priest, 
to  whom  he  might  confess.  "And  so,"  continued  he, 
"  I  ran  off  for  you,  thinking  you  might  speak  a  word  of 
comfort  to  his  poor  soul." 

Mrs.  Dudley  was  right  in  her  conjecture.  The  shaft 
of  death  had  been  winged  by  the  hand  of  TowT:isend. 
Two  or  three  unsuccessful  expeditions  to  Castle  William 
had  given  rise  to  a  suspicion  that  Wilson  had  himself 
secreted  the  treasure  supposed  to  be  concealed  there : 
this,  together  with  a  daily  increasing  fear  of  detection, 
induced  the  old  man  to  remove  his  guilty  associate  by 
means  of  poison;  but  no  sooner  had  the  deadly  potion 
commenced  its  work,  than  the  poor  wretch,  rendered 
cowardly  by  wickedness,  sought  to  drown  the  voice  of 
conscience  in  a  copious  draught  of  laudanum. 

When  Mr.  Osborne  arrived,  he  was  met  at  the  door 
by  Doctor  Willard.  "  You  have  come  to  a  terrible 
scene,  my  dear  sir,"  said  he.  "  Being  at  my  father's, 
I  was  sent  for,  as  the  nearest  physician ;  but,  I  assure 
you,  I  would  gladly  have  avoided  the  task." 

It  w^as,  indeed,  a  melancholy  sight,  to  see  two  who 
had  long  been  supposed  companions  in  guilt  13'ing  on 
miserable  pallets  in  the  same  room  of  death. 

The  miser,  gasping  for  breath,  seemed  insensible  to 
all  around  him ;  yet  his  right  hand  clutched  a  bag  of 
gold  with  all  his  remaining  energy",  as  if  he  thought  the 
filthy  lucre  would  assist  him  beyond  the  grave.  His 
nephew  stood  rubbing  his  stiffened  hand,  with  a  look  of 
mingled  distress  and  compassion. 


152  THE    REBELS. 

The  sufferings  of  Wilson  were  more  severe  than 
those  of  his  murderer.  He  would  shriek  and  struggle 
till  his  strength  was  quite  exhausted,  and  then  his  weak 
limbs  would  quiver  with  the  acuteness  of  bodily  pain, 
and  his  features  become  convulsed  with  the  violence  of 
internal  emotion.  His  daughter  knelt  by  his  bed-side, 
in  tears ;  and,  pale  and  anxious  as  she  was,  Doctor  Wil- 
lard  saw,  in  her  exceeding  beauty,  an  ample  excuse  for 
Percival's  degrading  marriage. 

She  had  loosened  the  rosary  from  her  neck,  and  she 
held  the  sacred  emblem  of  salvation  before  the  sufferer, 
as  she  said,  "  Try  to  pray,  dear  father !  "  He  gazed  on 
her,  for  a  moment,  with  a  dreadful  expression  of  remorse 
and  terror,  and  then  turned  his  face  the  other  way,  with- 
out speaking  a  word. 

Doctor  Willard  prepared  an  opiate,  and  as  his  child 
stooped  down  to  arrange  his  pillows,  and  apply  the 
laudanum  to  his  throbbing  temples, — with  a  frightful, 
hollow  laugh  of  insanity,  he  exclaimed,  "  Where  is  your 
bloody  gown,  Gertrude  ?  I  have  been  told  that  heart's 
blood  will  not  wash  out  in  any  earthly  stream ! " 

He  looked  up  as  he  spoke  —  his  expression  suddenly 
changed;  and  he  shaded  his  face,  as  he  murmured, 
"  O,  how  much  like  Fitzherbert ! " 

"  It 's  a  lie ! "  squeaked  the  old  miser,  in  tones  hardly 
audible,  "  I  never  touched  Fitzherbert's  money." 

"  Ha !  are  you  there,  old  raven  ? "  said  his  accom- 
plice, trying  to  raise  himself  on  his  elbow. 

The  exertion  was  too  much  for  him,  and  with  a  deep 
groan  he  fell  backward.  His  spasms  were,  for  a  while, 
more  violent  than  ever.  Percival  left  the  bed-side  of 
his  uncle,  where  he  had  long  been  pouring  words  of 


THE    REBELS.  153 

kindness  and  consolation  into  ears  that  regarded  him 
not ;  and  when  his  wretched  father-in-law  had  an  inter- 
val of  comparative  quiet,  he  took  Mr.  Osborne's  hand, 
as  he  said,  "  Here  is  a  clergy-man  come  to  pray  with 
you." 

"  I  know  what  to  say  to  please  him  and  all  his  tribe," 
replied  the  hardened  sinner;  "  but  it  would  do  no  good. 
There  is  an  accusing  spirit,  with  a  bloody  robe,  that  will 
undp  all  that  he  or  I  can  do  to  save  me." 

"  But  there  is  One  who  has  the  power  and  the  will  to 
save  the  penitent,"  observed  Mr.  Osborne. 

Mr.  Wilson  scowled  deeply.  "  I  have  something  to 
confess,"  said  he ;  "  but  he  is  not  one  of  the  confessing 
sort." 

"  Is  there  no  holy  priest  in  Boston,  who  could  give 
ease  to  my  father's  parting  spirit  ? "  inquired  Gertrude. 

"  There  is  no  Catholic,  God  be  praised !  "  said  Mr. 
Osborne,  with  a  look  that  expressed  his  compassion  for 
her  deluded  faith. 

"  I  have  much  to  say,  and  brief  space  to  say  it  in," 
rejoined  Wilson ;  "  but  it  touches  the  life  of  that  old 
man.  I  meant  to  have  refonned  from  my  evil  ways,  if 
the  Almighty  had  given  me  time ;  as  it  is,  I  must  take 
my  chance." 

A  loud  groan,  at  that  instant,  directed  all  eyes  toward 
Mr.  Townsend's  couch.  Percival  instantly  sprang  for- 
ward,—  for,  unnoticed  bj'-  any  one,  he  had  fallen  into 
strong  convulsions.  Doctor  Willard  tried  to  open  his 
hands ;  but,  with  strength  that  seemed  almost  miracu- 
lous, he  clasped  the  golden  treasure,  and,  in  broken  and 
indistinct  accents,  complained  that  they  were  taking 
away  his  last  farthing. 


154  THE    REBELS. 

"  I  won't,  I  won't ! "  said  he,  struggling  with  the  phy- 
sician, "  I  say,  I  won't  pay  a  farthing ;  for  I  never  wronged 
her." 

Sinking  back  as  he  spoke,  his  muscles  twitched,  his 
limbs  drew  up,  and  he  expired. 

The  tears  coursed  each  other  down  the  cheeks  of  his 
nephew,  as  he  gazed  on  the  corpse  of  him  who  had 
lived  unbeloved  and  died  unlamented. 

It  is  always  melancholy  to  see  a  desolate  mortal  ven- 
turing into  the  fathomless  abyss  of  eternity,  without  one 
friendly  voice  on  shore  to  bid  him  God-speed ;  and  per- 
haps the  mixture  of  regret  and  self-reproach,  which  we 
feel  when  standing  by  the  death-bed  of  those  whom  we 
ought  to  love,  yet  cannot,  has  more  of  anguish  in  it  than 
belongs  to  any  other  species  of  sorrow. 

Wilson,  himself  tottering  on  the  verge  of  the  preei- 
pice  from  which  his  companion  had  just  dropped,  seemed 
to  be  the  only  one  unmoved. 

"  So  he  has  gone  to  hell  before  me,  and  my  story  can 
do  him  no  harm,"  said  he. 

With  a  look  of  unutterable  agony,  Gertrude  fell  on 
her  husband's  neck,  and  sobbed  out,  "  O  !  1  cannot  hear 
him  talk  thus." 

The  action  seemed  to  soften  the  heart  of  her  father ; 
and,  seizing  the  favorable  moment,  Mr.  Osborne  said, 
"You  are  a  dying  man,  Mr.  Wilson;  and  something 
seems  to  weigh  heavily  on  your  conscience.  Remember 
there  is  One  to  whom  it  is  never  too  late  to  kneel  for 
pardoning  mercy." 

Wilson  waved  his  hand  impatiently.  "  I  have  some- 
thing else  to  say  now,"  answered  he  ;  —  "  when  I  have 
done,  I  will  listen  to  you.     Mr.  Townsend  was  executor 


THE    REBELS.  155 

to  the  Fitzherbert  estate.  He  embezzled  most  of  the 
property.  I  broke  open  the  widow's  house;  I  inter- 
cepted her  letters,  and  he  paid  me  for  it." 

Before  he  could  say  more,  his  fits  again  came  over 
him.  He  writhed  and  groaned,  —  and  the  sweat  stood 
on  his  brow,  in  the  intensity  of  his  pain.  With  self- 
command  wonderful  in  one  so  young,  his  daughter 
leaned  over  him,  and  assisted  Doctor  AVillard  in  his 
attempts  to  restore  him. 

When  he  revived  a  little,  Mr.  Osborne,  impelled  by 
his  anxiety  for  Lucretia,  asked  where  the  proofs  of  this 
transaction  could  be  found. 

"  In  a  small  iron  box,  at  John  Dudley's  house,"  an- 
swered Wilson.  "  I  got  them  from  the  miser  by  the 
help  of  false  keys ;  and  I  held  the  whip  over  his  back 
forever  after.  There  are  two  other  things  1  would  tell 
of, —  perhaps  it  may  help  me  through  purgator}'.  There 
is  a  chest  of  gold  buried  in  the  ground,  behind  the  store 
No.  — ,  King-street.  I  meant  to  have  left  it  to  Ger- 
trude," continued  he,  looking  at  her  with  earnest  affec- 
tion, "but  she  will  have  enough,  if  justice  has  all  her 
due." 

"  0,  tell  the  truth  ! — tell  all  the  truth! "  said  Gertrude, 
stooping  to  kiss  his  pale  face. 

Delighted  approbation  shone  in  the  expressive  coun- 
tenance of  Percival.  "  She  is  richer  in  her  husband's 
love  than  gold  or  silver  could  make  her,"  obsen^ed  Doc- 
tor Willard.  "  ^lay  I  ask  if  this  chest  of  gold  is  the 
same  Mr.  Townsend  dug  up  on  the  island,  last  Sep- 
tember ?  " 

"  The  old  fool  never  dug  it  up,"  said  Wilson,  with  a 
hideous  laugh.     "  Did  he  think  I  'd  know  where  treas- 


156  THE   REBELS. 

ure  was,  and  not  get  it  myself?  —  I  kept  it  as  a  sort  of 
lure  for  him ;  but  it  was  dug  up  in  August,  and  a  smooth 
stone  placed  in  its  stead." 

"  And  what,"  inquired  Doctor  Willard,  "  was  the 
meaning  of  the  noise,  and  of  that  struggling  in  the 
sand?" 

A  slight  smile  of  contempt  curled  the  lips  of  the  dying 
man,  as  he  asked,  "  Had  you  not  a  favorite  dog  ? " 

"  I  had." 

"  And  did  you  ever  see  him,  after  you  left  Castle 
William?" 

"I  never  did  —  though  I  have  offered  large  rewards 
for  him." 

"  How  superstition  blinds  itself !  "  replied  Wilson. 
"  The  men  were  startled  by  the  voice  of  Doctor  Byles ; 
they  suffered  the  stone  to  slip,  and  your  dog  was  crushed 
beneath  it." 

"  To  whom  does  this  gold  belong  ?  "  asked  Percival. 

"  Some  accursed  fatahty  has  always  joined  my  for- 
tunes with  Fitzherbert's,"  said  he.  "  The  box  was  his. 
There  is  that  within  it  will  explain  all.  There  is  one 
thing  more.  In  Mr.  Townsend's  third  drawer  you  will 
find  a  book  of  bank-notes  belonging  to  Governor  Hutch- 
inson." 

"Why  did  you  not  tell  all  this  before?"  inquired 
Percival.  "  I  could  have  persuaded  my  poor  uncle  to 
restore  all  to  the  rightful  owners." 

"  No  such  easy  matter  that,"  replied  Wilson.  "  Be- 
side, to  tell  the  truth,  I  could  not  bear  that  Gertrude 
should  lose  a  penny,  until  death  began  to  stare  me  in 
the  face.  I  knew  your  romantic  generosity  would  betray 
all.     I  respect  you  for  it ;  and  in  a  moment  of  weakness 


THE    REBELS.  157 

I  once  trusted  a  fearful  secret  to  it  —  a  secret  which  you 
alone  of  all  the  world  are  pri\y  to." 

"  Is  he  ? "  cried  a  voice,  startling  in  its  shrillness. 

The  eyes  of  all  present  were  directed  to.  the  quarter 
whence  the  sound  proceeded.  A  tall,  gaunt  figure,  in  a 
bright  red  cardinal,  stood  near  the  door.  A  wTinkled, 
smoke-colored  arm  was  thrust  forth  from  the  cloak,  and 
her  hand  rested  on  a  cane  covered  with  snake-skin.  A 
rust}^  black  bonnet  had  fallen  back  on  her  shoulders,  and 
gave  a  full  view  of  her  countenance,  gleaming  with 
expression  perfectly  satanic.  "Where  should  your 
crime  be  so  faithfully  recorded  as  on  the  heart  you  have 
crushed?"  said  she.  "I  told  you  a  violent  death  was 
not  far  distant.  You  call  me  Molly  Bradstreet, — but  I 
am  the  mother  of  the  murdered  Gertrude  May ! " 

A  piercing  shriek  came  from  Wilson's  inmost  soul. 

Her  eyes  seemed  to  flash  with  infernal  fire,  as  she 
exclaimed,  —  "You  did  kill  her,  then  ?    Own  it,  wretch  1 

—  own  it !  " 

"I  did  stab  her,"  said  Wilson;  "but  you  do  not  know 
the  cause." 

The  frenzied  mother  threw  her  cane  upon  the  floor, 
and  springing  to  the  bed,  shook  the  dying  man  with  the 
strength  and  fur}^  of  an  Amazon. 

"Take  her  away  from  him  —  take  her  away!"  cried 
Gertrude,  in  a  voice  suflfocated  with  emotion. 

Her  husband  and  Doctor  Willard  forced  her  from  the 
apartment ;  but  as  they  retreated,  she  fixed  her  wither- 
ing gaze  upon  Wilson,  and  shook  her  bony  fist  in  impo- 
tent rage,  as  she  exclaimed :  "  A  mother's  curse  go  with 
you;  and  the  torments  of  the  damned  be  your  portion 

—  murderer  as  you  are  I " 

14 


158  THE    REBELS. 

#^  ^  ^  ^  ^ 

^ir  T^  TV*  Tv"  •7^ 

*'  The  pains  of  death  are  coming  over  me,  thanks  to 
the  hand  that  hurried  them,"  said  Mr.  Wilson.  "  Stoop 
down  and  kiss  me,  while  I  have  my  senses ;  for  bad  as  I 
am,  I  love  you,  my  child." 

"0,  my  father, — my  poor  father, — would  I  had  never 
known  all  this  ! "  said  Gertrude ;  and  as  she  covered  her 
face  with  her  trembling  hands,  the  scalding  tears  forced 
their  way  between  her  slender  fingers. 

The  dying  parent  gave  her  one  fervent  kiss,  and  would 
have  clasped  her  to  his  aching  heart,  but  the  paroxysms 
came  on  more  violently  than  ever.  In  the  terrible  contest, 
reason  was  forever  hurled  from  her  throne.  He  seemed 
to  wrestle  with  some  imaginary  being,  and  screamed  and 
struggled,  as  he  said,  "  Let  me  go  !  let  me  go  !  She  is 
standing  there  to  heap  red-hot  coals  upon  my  head.  O, 
save  me  !  save  me  ! "  This  dreadful  contlict  could  not 
last  long.  Life  yielded  to  the  torturing  fiend;  and  he 
expired  amid  shrieks  and  agony. 

The  distressing  scene  came  upon  the  innocent  heart  of 
Gertrude  with  double  power ;  for,  till  now,  she  had  been 
ignorant  that  a  shadow  of  crime  could  be  imputed  to  her 
father ;  and  she  was  carried  from  the  room  in  a  state  of 
insensibility. 

Delicacy  prevented  any  one  from  alluding  to  the 
shocking  causes  of  the  deaths  they  had  just  witnessed ; 
though  none  doubted  the  distressing  truth. 

"I  sincerely  thank  you  for  your  kind  exertions,  though 
they  have  been  so  fruitless,"  said  Percival  to  the  worthy 
clergyman.  "It  is  but  lately  that  my  father-in-law 
made  a  firm  resolution  that  a  virtuous  old  age  should 


THE    REBELS.  159 

atone,   as   far   as   possible,  for  his  early  sins ;  but  late 
refonnations  are  always  danf^erous." 

"  The  stains  of  evil  are  indeed  washed  out  with  diffi- 
culty, when  they  have  long  been  dicing  and  deepening 
beneath  the  scorching  heat  of  the  passions,"  replied  Mr. 
Osborne.  "  Such  instances  should  teach  us  all  an  im- 
pressive lesson.  They  sen'e  too  well  to  confirm  the 
awful  truth,  that  the  threshold  of  hell  is  paved  with  good 
resolutions." 

"I  trust  the  fearful  warning  will  not  be  lost  upon  us," 
rejoined  the  young  man.  "A  priest  of  our  own  persua- 
sion would  be  more  pleasant  to  myself  and  ]\Irs.  Perci- 
val ;  but  as  this  is  not  altogether  pmcticable  at  this  time, 
will  you,  my  good  sir,  attend  these  funerals,  the  day  after 
to-morrow  ? " 

Mr.  Osborne  readily  assented ;  and  after  Doctor  Wil- 
lard  had  generously  offered  his  sen-ices  in  any  way  they 
might  be  required,  the  young  husband  retired  to  console 
Gertrude  with  all  the  arguments  that  good  sense  or  ten- 
derness could  suggest. 

Grace  and  Lucretia  spent  the  ensuing  day  in  the 
house  of  mourning ;  and  their  ready  kindness  and  unaf- 
fected sensibHit}^  rapidly  m.ade  their  way  to  the  heart  of 
the  fair  mourner,  —  while  the  guileless  simplicity  of  her 
ideas,  aided  b}"  the  witchery  of  foreign  accent,  made  a 
claim  on  their  affections,  equally  powerful. 

They  were  all  at  that  happy  age,  when  the  heart, 
elastic  and  pliable,  bounds  forward  to  receive  an  impres- 
sion, and  gives  back  its  image  in  lines  broad,  deep,  and 
distinct. 

WTien  they  parted,  Percival  smiled,  as  he  said,  "You 
have  taken  the  heart  of  my  Gertrude  by  a  coup  de  main; 


160  THE    REBELS. 

had  you  been  nine  years  in  the  St.  Vallier's  convent,  I 
think  you  could  hardly  have  been  greater  friends." 

In  no  point  of  view  could  the  death  of  the  two  unhap- 
py men  be  considered  a  misfortune  ;  —  yet  the  funeral 
was  a  crowded  one. 

The  novel  and  exciting  circumstances  attending  their 
decease,  the  handsome  Canadian  stranger,  and  the  desire 
to  explore  a  house  which  they  had  never  been  allowed  to 
visit  during  the  life-time  of  its  owner,  led  the  populace 
thither  in  throngs. 

When  everything  was  arranged  for  the  procession, 
the  sexton,  according  to  custom,  announced  that  any  one 
had  liberty  to  view  the  bodies.  The  crowd  rushed  in 
with  eagerness.  Every  one  that  looked  on  their  convulsed 
and  blackened  features  turned  away  with  an  expression 
of  horror;  and  others,  with  redoubled  eagerness,  pressed 
forward,  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  such  obvious  emotion. 
He  must  have,  indeed,  been  ingenious  in  torture,  who 
first  devised  this  cruel  custom,  still  common  in  the  inte- 
rior of  our  country.  O,  how  the  mother  is  thrilled  with 
anguish,  when  the  blessed  little  face,  that  has  so  often 
nestled  to  her  heart  in  cherub  plaj-^fulness,  is  exposed  to 
the  view  of  the  rude  and  unfeeling !  and  how  the  hus- 
band's heart  swells  almost  to  bursting,  when  the  loved 
countenance,  once  all  radiant  with  affection,  is  given,  in 
its  cold  and  lifeless  beauty,  to  the  heartless  gaze  of  a 
multitude ! 

There  were  no  such  feelings  to  be  aroused  on  this 
occasion ;  but  Gertrude  was  oppressed  with  a  deep  and 
distressing  sense  of  shame,  that  the  violent  death  of  her 
father  should  thus  needlessly  be  made  public.  Her  hus- 
band  sympathized   with   her  feelings,  and  beckoned  to 


THE    REBELS.  161 

Doctor  Willard,  who,  in  a  low  voice,  requested  the  sex- 
ton to  screw  down  the  lids  of  the  coffins,  and  dispense 
with  further  ceremon}'. 

"  Xot  till  I  have  looked  my  last,"  said  a  discordant 
voice.  The  crowd  made  way  for  some  one,  and  presently 
the  gi-andmother  of  Gertrude  stood  by  the  coffin,  eying 
the  lifeless  remains  of  her  son-in-law,  with  the  malig- 
nant triumph  of  a  vindictive  fiend.  "I  told  him  it 
would  end  thus  ;  but  he  little  thought  how  much  more  I 
could  have  told  him,"  murmured  she,  as  she  seated  her- 
self among  the  mourners. 

"Who  is  she?  who  is  she?"  was  whispered  among 
the  crowd ;  but  those  who  were  able  to  give  the  informa- 
tion did  not  choose  to  impart  it,  and  no  further  notice 
was  taken  of  the  interruption. 

In  a  long  and  fervent  prayer,  Mr.  Osborne  alluded  to 
the  insufficiency  of  wealth,  and  dwelt  much  on  the  never 
failing  mercies  of  the  Saviour.  AVhat  he  said  was  so 
exactly  appropriate,  and  what  he  forbore  to  say  evinced 
so  much  delicacy  and  tenderness,  that  Gertrude  half  for- 
got her  Catholic  prejudices ;  though  she  internally  re- 
solved that  mass  for  her  father's  soul  should  be  said  for 
three  months  in  the  convent  of  St.  Vallier. 

When  the  procession  formed,  Mr.  and  I\Irs.  Percival 

rose,  and  led  the  way.     With  a  sudden  and  rapid  stride, 

the  grandmother  approached  Lucretia,  and  seizing  her 

arm,  attempted  to  follow.     Lucretia   shrank   from   the 

contact,  with  loathinsf  and  terror :  but  the  sincnilar  wo- 

man  held  her  in  a  strong  grasp,  as  she  said,    "  Thus, 

thus  it  should  be.     I  am  no  mourner, — neither  are  you; 

nevertheless,  our  place  is  here." 

Fearing  her  violence  would  create  confusion,  Lucretia 
14# 


162  THE    REBELS. 

passively  yielded  to  her  guidance,  —  though  partly  from 
fear,  and  partly  from  the  inequality  of  their  stature,  she 
found  it  nearly  impossible  to  keep  pace  with  her.  Noth- 
ing was  said  till  they  arrived  at  the  burial-ground.  The 
harsh,  grating  cords  lowered  the  coffins  into  the  earth ; 
the  heavy  clods  were  heaped  upon  them,  and  slowly  and 
with  measured  tread  the  mourners  left  the  melancholy 
spot.  "Lucretia  Fitzherbert,"  said  the  old  woman,  step- 
ping aside  from  her  companions,  and  warmly  clasping 
her  hand,  "  you  '11  may-be  never  see  me  again ;  or  if  ye 
do,  I'll  may -be  bring  you  unwelcome  tidings.  I  am 
sometimes  strongly  moved  to  make  reparation  for  all  I 
have  done  ;  but  it  will  not  come  out.  A  good  name  will 
do  much  for  you ;  but  when  you  come  to  your  rich  rela- 
tions, and  your  heaps  of  silver,  do  not  forget  a  poor,  half- 
crazed  creature,  that  has  watched  for  ye,  wept  for  ye,  and 
kept  an  eye  on  ye, — but  never  for  evil.  You  are  the 
only  one  left  to  pray  for  her  now  I " 

Her  chin  quivered,  her  lips  moved  convulsively,  and 
the  pressure  of  her  hand  was  painful  in  its  desperate 
fervor. 

With  mingled  surprise  and  pity.  Miss  Fitzherbert 
answered  :  "If  there  is  anything  I  can  do  for  you,  poor 
woman — " 

"Your  love  and  your  prayers,"  interrupted  she;  — 
"oh,  if  I  had  them,  I  could  tread  my  wearisome  pilgrim- 
age in  peace." 

"  My  grandmother,"  said  Gertrude,  who  had  often 
looked  back,  and  now  timidly  approached  them,  "is  there 
nothing  you  will  allow  us  to  do  for  you,  before  we  go 
back  to  Canada  ? " 

"You!    you  I"    replied    she,    with    a   vacant   laugh. 


THE    REBELS.  163 

"You  owe  me  nothing;  but  your  painted  outside  has 
done  well  for  you." 

Without  waiting  for  an  answer,  she  suddenly  struck 
into  a  little  winding  path,  and  was  soon  seen  towering 
among  the  distant  bushes. 

*'  It  is  xery  strange,"  said  Gertrude  ;  "  we  invited  her 
to  this  funeral,  and  offered  her  a  suit  of  mourning ;  but 
she  refused  to  come.  ]\Iy  husband  voluntarily  promised 
her  a  house  and  a  pension  for  life ;  but  she. treated  it  all 
%^'ith  the  bitterest  scorn." 

On  their  way  homeward,  it  was  agreed  that  her 
grandchildren,  accompanied  by  Lucretia,  should  seek 
her  dwelling,  the  ensuing  day.  They  did  so  accord- 
ingly ;  but  no  traces  of  the  unhappy  creature  could  be 
found.  An  old  woman,  who  lived  a  few  rods  from  her 
^^Tetched  hut,  said  that  "Molly  had  gone  off,  the  day 
before,  bag  and  baggage ;  and  that  it  was  borne  in  upon 
her  mind,  that  she  meant  to  lay  violent  hands  on  her- 
self; but  then  there  was  no  telling  —  for  she  always 
had  a  rambling  way  with  her." 

There  were  but  few  affairs  left  for  i\Ir.  Percival  to 
arrange,  before  he  left  New  England.  Four  thousand 
pounds,  the  amount  proved  to  have  been  sequestrated 
from  the  Fitzherbert  estate,  was  paid  into  the  hands  of 
Governor  Hutchinson.  The  chest  of  gold  was  found 
where  Wilson  had  directed,  and  its  contents  were  pre- 
cisely what  he  stated  in  his  conversation  with  Mr. 
Townsend.  At  the  bottom  of  the  silver  was  a  letter, 
worn  and  blackened  by  the  metal,  but  still  enough  of  it 
legible  to  make  out,  \Yith.  slight  assistance  from  imagina- 
tion, 


164  THE    REBELS. 

"  I  was  induced  to  collect  my  property,  lest  the  settle- 
ment should  trouble  you,  in  case  of  my  death. 

"  Ever  your  loving  husband, 

"  Edmund  Fitzherbert." 

Lucretia  kissed  the  precious  document,  and  steeped  it 
in  her  tears.  "  How  well  it  is,"  said  she,  "  that  we 
never  know  the  event  of  what  we  undertake !  Could 
my  poor  father  have  foreseen  that  his  dear  wife  would 
have  died  of  a  broken  heart,  without  ever  being  aware 
of  the  kind  provision  he  had  made  for  her  comfort,  how 
wretched  he  would  have  been ! " 

The  identical  handwriting  of  Captain  Fitzherbert  was 
immediately  sent  to  England,  together  with  an  account 
of  Wilson's  confession ;  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Percival 
returned  home,  blessed  by  the  numerous  friends  whom 
their  integrity  and  kindness  had  procured  for  them. 

A  few  days  after  their  departure.  Doctor  Byles 
entered  the  breakfast-parlor,  before  Governor  Hutchin- 
son had  arisen  from  the  table. 

"  I  have  made  you  an  early  call,"  said  he  ;  "  for  since 
there  are  no  moles  stirring,  and  since  the  talk  about 
Wilson  and  Townsend  begins  to  die  away,  I  think  you 
must  be  in  need  of  excitement." 

"  That  was  a  gloomy  business,"  replied  the  governor. 
"  Those  who  were  witnesses  of  it  will  not  speedily  for- 
get it.  With  all  Mr.  Osborne's  abhorrence  of  Wilson's 
superstitious  creed,  he  said  it  made  him  feel  melancholy 
to  see  a  poor,  dying  sinner,  craving  the  only  spiritual 
consolation  in  which  he  had  the  least  faith,  and  yet 
unable  to  procure  it." 

"  It  is  a  pity  that  Brother  Osborne  had  not  as  much 


THE    REBELS.  165 

political  charity  as  he  has  religious,"  answered  the  doc- 
tor. "  That  these  two  wicked  mortals  went  to  the  bar 
of  an  offended  God  with  all  their  unrepented  sins  upon 
their  heads,  is  melancholy  enough ;  but  as  to  the  Catho- 
lic priest,  I  am  much  of  the  opinion  of  '  the  ever  memo- 
rable Hales.'  '  Pliny  somewhere  tells  you,'  says  this 
bold  and  witty  writer,  '  that  he  that  is  stricken  by  a 
scorpion,  if  he  go  immediately  and  whisper  it  in  the  ear 
of  an  ass,  shall  find  himself  immediately  eased.  That 
sm  is  a  scorpion,  and  bites  deadly,  I  have  always 
believed ;  but  that,  to  cure  the  bite  of  it,  it  was  a  sov- 
ereign remedy  to  whisper  it  into  the  ear  of  a  —  priest,  I 
do  as  well  believe,  as  I  do  that  of  Pliny.'  " 

"  Probably  ]\Ir.  Osborne's  faith  is  about  tantamount  to 
yours  and  '  the  ever  memorable  Hales',' "  said  Lucretia ; 
"but  it  is  not  surprising  his  feelings  were  touched. 
What  news  do  you  bring,  to  excite  us  ?  " 

"What  would  3'ou  give  to  know?"  said  Doctor  Byles, 
drawing  a  package  from  his  pocket  with  the  most  tanta- 
lizing moderation. 

"Only  tell  me  one  thing,  —  is  it  from  England?" 
inquired  Lucretia. 

"  It  is." 

"Nay,  then,  you  must  not  keep  us  one  moment  in 
suspense,"  said  Governor  Hutchinson. 

"  O,  if  a  letter  from  Mr.  Fitzherbert  has  arrived ! " 
exclaimed  Miss  Sandford. 

With  a  most  provoking  air,  the  clerg}Tnan  replaced 
the  letters  in  his  pocket,  as  he  obser\'ed,  "  Self-denial  is 
a  very  necessarj^  virtue.  Madam  Sandford.  Women,  in 
particular,  should  learn  it  well." 

"  Small  danger  of  their  lacking  lessons,  as  long  as 


166  THE    REBELS. 

society  affords  such  lordly  and  tyrannic  beings  as  your- 
self," she  replied. 

"  This  is  too  bad,"  said  the  governor,  half  angry  and 
half  amused  at  his  friend's  childishness.  "  In  the  name 
of  his  most  Christian  majesty,  George  III.,  Defender  of 
the  Faith,  and,  by  the  grace  of  God,  King  of  Great 
Britain,  Ireland,  and  the  American  Colonies,  I  command 
you  to  deliver  up  the  sealed  parcel  wherewith  you  have 
been  intrusted." 

"  Prove  your  credentials,  and  I  yield  to  royal  author- 
ity," answered  Doctor  B3des. 

"  Might  makes  right,"  replied  his  antagonist,  and 
making  a  sudden  plunge,  he  snatched  the  package  from 
its  hiding-place. 

"  Since  you  have  it,"  observed  the  doctor,  "  I  will  give 
an  account  how  I  came  by  it.  I  walked  unusually  early 
this  morning,  and  perceiving  the  Queen  Caroline  at  the 
wharf,  I  went  on  board  to  search  for  letters ;  and  finding 
two  parcels  —  one  for  yourself,  and  one  for  me  —  I  took 
charge  of  both." 

Two  epistles,  in  the  well-known  hands  of  the  Lords 
Hillsborough  and  North,  were  laid  aside,  to  be  read  at 
leisure.  The  third,  though  directed  to  his  Excellency 
Governor  Hutchinson,  began : 

"  Dear  Niece  : 

"I  have  only  time,  before  this  vessel  sails,  to  tell  you 
that  the  important  papers  —  certificate  of  marriage,  birth, 
&c.  —  came  duly  to  hand.  Evidence  is  ample  and 
satisfactory.  There  is  no  doubt  that  your  father  was 
my  dear,  but  very  headstrong  nephew,  —  though  your 
miniature  shows   not  a  shadow  of  family  likeness.     1 


THE    REBELS.  167 

rejoice  to  see,  by  your  letter,  that  you  have  been  edu- 
cated as  a  Fitzherbert  should  be.  As  a  trifling  acknowl- 
edgment of  this  kindness,  present  the  articles  that 
accompany  this  to  Governor  Hutchinson  and  his  sister. 
A  voyage  at  this  season  would  be  cold  and  dangerous ; 
but  as  soon  as  the  spring  opens,  you  must  make  for 
England.  "  Your  loving  uncle, 

;  "  Fitzherbert." 

Grosvenor-square,  London,  ) 
Sept.  28th,  1765.  j 

This  laconic  letter  was  in  a  fair  Italian  hand ;  and  the 
upright,  heavy  signature,  was  evidently  the  only  part 
written  by  the  rich  old  bachelor.  A  few  hours  after,  a 
small  box,  directed  to  Lucretia,  was  brought  from  the 
newly  arrived  vessel. 

It  contained  a  superb  work-box,  mounted  on  golden 
claws,  and  ornamented  with  a  lion  couchant,  of  the  same 
precious  material,  designed  for  Madam  Sandford ;  a  gold 
repeater,  of  splendid  worlmianship,  bore  the  family  arms 
of  Hutchinson,  marked  with  the  initials,  T.  H.  A 
miniature,  richly  studded  with  rubies  and  pearl,  gave  to 
Lucretia's  view  the  blutf,  sun-burnt  features  of  her 
wealthy  uncle ;  and  last  of  all,  appeared  a  draft  on  the 
Bank  of  England,  to  the  amount  of  one  thousand 
pounds. 

Again  and  again  was  the  transaction  talked  over,  and 
the  munificent  presents  were  examined  and  reexamined. 
I  In  the  course  of  the  day,  the  Osbornes  called  to  congrat- 
ulate their  young  friend  on  her  good  fortune,  of  the  pros- 
pect of  which  they  had,  till  within  a  week,  been  entirely 
ignorant. 

"Joy?  joy'"  cried  Miss  Sandford;  "  Lucretia  goes  to 


168  THE    REBELS. 

England  early  in  the  spring ;  and  she  can  have  the  reti- 
nue of  a  duchess,  if  she  chooses." 

Grace  said  but  little,  but  her  eloquent  looks  spoke 
satisfaction,  without  the  slightest  tinge  of  envy. 

Mr.  Osborne  folded  his  hands  over  her,  in  paternal 
benediction,  as  he  said,  "  Your  brain  must  be  steady, 
indeed,  if  you  can  stand  on  this  dizzy  height  unmoved. 
Pray  that  you  may  be  strengthened  for  the  trial,  my 
child.'^ 

Henry  gave  her  hand  a  lingering  pressure,  as  he 
whispered,  "  I  rejoice  that  I  was  kept  in  ignorance  of  all 
this.  Wherever  Miss  Fitzherbert  goes,  and  whatever 
may  be  her  fortune,  she  will  at  least  remember  that 
Henry  Osborne  was  a  friend,  sincere  and  disinterested." 


CHAPITER    XIV. 

5Iea  such  as  these  could  brave  a  monarch's  frown, 
Could  pluck  the  diamonds  from  a  tyrant's  crown  ; 
And  when  the  oppression  ceased,  such  men  could  show 
A  godlike  greatness,  and  forgive  a  foe.  Pierpont. 

The  winter  passed  away  without  any  domestic  occur- 
rences worthy  of  repetition  ;  though  trifles,  seen  through 
the  illusive  medium  of  young  aflection,  were  abundantly 
magnified  by  the  individuals  concerned. 

In  public,  there  were  angry  messages  from  Governor 
Bernard,  and  high-toned  answers  from  the  intrepid  legis- 
lature. Offices  were  closed,  public  business  suspended, 
and  the  creditor  left  at  the  mercy  of  his  debtor,  because 
the  untamed  spirit  of  our  fathers  would  not  cower  to 
take  the  yoke  that  an  impolitic  government  had  pre- 
pared. TSor  did  Massachusetts  tread  her  proud  and 
daring  course  alone.  All  the  neighboring  colonies  joined 
her  ranks,  -^-ith  union  as  voluntary  as  it  was  energetic. 
The  lakes  gave  back  the  signal  of  resistance,  and  the 
thundering  sound  reverberated  along  the  Atlantic  coast, 
until  it  was  lost  among  the  uninhabited  prairies  of  the 
south.  The  first  loud  burst  of  indignation  was  indeed 
hushed  for  a  time ;  and  some  superficial  politicians  mis- 
took the  calmness  of  fixed  resolution  for  the  tameness  of 
submission.  It  was,  however,  but  suppressed  resent- 
ment, "  still  as  the  hours  that  watch  the  earthquake's 
birth." 

The  yQVY  first  men  who  dared  attempt  to  enforce  the 
15 


no  THE    REBELS. 

odious  law  found  that  the  giant  had  but  paused  to  place 
his  lance  in  rest,  and  to  rein  in  his  steed  for  the  combat. 
Britain  discovered  the  strength  of  her  antagonist ;  and 
though  too.  proud  to  quit  the  lists  hastily,  she  slowly  and 
cautiously  retreated  before  her  ^'outhful  foe. 

In  March,  1766,  a  repeal  of  the  stamp  act  arrived  in 
Boston ;  and,  notwithstanding  it  purported  to  be  a  mere 
act  of  condescension,  and  haughtily  maintained  the  right 
of  England  to  tax  her  colonies,  it  was  received  with 
every  demonstration  of  joy. 

Muffled  drums,  and  flags  half-mast  high,  had  an- 
nounced the  unpopular  duty  ;  and  scarcely  had  the  news 
of  its  revocation  spread  through  the  town,  before  stand- 
ards were  seen  fluttering  high  in  the  air,  and  "  God  save 
the  King  "  rung  from  the  bells,  in  many  a  loud  and  merry 
peal.  "  Liberty"  was  blazoned  on  hat-bands  and  shoul- 
der-belts, and  the  drum  rolled  its  deep  response  to  ''  the 
spirit-stirring  fife,"  until  the  going  down  of  the  sun. 
In  the  evening,  the  streets  were  brilliantly  illuminated. 
"  Liberty,"  "  No  Stamps,"  "  The  Repeal,"  were  every- 
where traced  in  characters  of  light. 

Somervifle  and  the  young  ladies,  the  two  Osbornes 
and  Doctor  Willard,  walked  out  together,  to  enjoy  the 
animation  and  excitement  of  the  scene.  Opposite  the 
Province  House,  they  all  paused  to  examine  the  fanciful 
devices  that  had  been  hastily  prepared,  in  the  eagerness 
of  gratitude  and  joy.  A  full-length  picture  of  Liberty, 
hurling  a  broken  chain  to  the  winds,  particularly  at- 
tracted their  attention  ;  and  while  they  were  wondering 
how  the  appropriate  emblem  had  been  so  suddenly  made 
ready,  John  Dudle}^  with  his  group  of  boys,  bustled 
up  to  them.     Grasping  Doctor  Willard's  hand,  he  ex- 


THE    REBELS.  171 

claimed,  "  Indeed,  I  am  almost  for  going  to  England  to 
thank  the  king  myself;  but  then  I  'm  thinking  it  is  not 
wise  to  thank  folks  for  what  they  would  help,  if  they 
could." 

"  Strong  hands  and  fearless  hearts  will  not  be  wanted 
so  soon  as  we  feared,"  replied  Henry  Osborne.  "  Little 
Hancock  need  not  hasten  to  grow  large  enough  for  a  sol- 
dier, now." 

The  honest  farmer  gazed  on  his  children,  as  they  clus- 
tered around  him,  and  passed  the  sleeve  of  his  coat 
across  his  eyes,  as  he  said,  "  I  have  looked  on  them 
hearty  boys  by  the  hour  together,  and  thought  I  could 
see  them  all  fall  in  the  cause  of  libert)^,  and  not  shed 
one  tear  over  their  graves.  But  I  am  glad  the  trial  was 
spared  me ;  I  had  rather  they  would  be  left  to  help  me 
plough  the  fields." 

The  distant  roar  of  cannon  from  Castle  "William,  min- 
gled with  a  deafening  clang  from  the  Old  South  steeple, 
here  interrupted  their  conversation,  and  Dudley  joined  a 
crowd  that  was  then  passing,  rending  the  air  with  stun- 
ning hurras. 

No  one  refused  to  unite  in  this  national  jubilee;  but 
there  wei'e  many  vdio  thought  the  gratitude  of  the  peo- 
ple excessive  and  premature.  Mr.  Osborne  was  among 
the  number.  He  heartily  rejoiced  at  any  overtures 
towards  reconciliation;  but  his  penetrating  e)'e  could 
not  but  observe  that  the  repeal  so  reluctantly  given  still 
claimed  the  right  against  which  America  had  so  stren- 
uously contended.  "Vv"e  have  no  security  against  op- 
pression," said  he,  "  until  this  tyrannic  principle  is 
renounced." 

"  I  coincide  with  you,  in  doubting  the  permanence  of 


172  THE    REBELS. 

all  this,"  rejoined  Henry.  "  Our  joy  may  be  suddenly 
turned  into  mourning." 

"  O,  never  be  peeping  into  the  shade,  when  the  sunny 
side  is  next  you,"  observed  Doctor  Willard.  "  Frank- 
lin's energetic  answers,  in  the  House  of  Commons,  have 
taught  them  to  respect  us.  The  young  and  animated 
Burke,  and  Chatham,  with  all  the  assistance  that  age  and 
decaying  health  can  give  his  powerful  eloquence,  will 
work  wonders  in  our  favor." 

"  If  Americans  are  satisfied,  I  strongly  suspect  the 
English  will  not  be,"  said  Somerville ;  "  for  the  princi- 
ples of  neither  party  are  recognized, in  this  repeal.  The 
friends  of  Mr.  Pitt  will  be  angry  that  the  bill  is  accom- 
panied by  any  declarations  of  parliamentary  power; 
and  Mr.  Grenville  will  be  indignant  that  the  factious 
spirit  of  the  colonies  is  conciliated,  rather  than  con- 
quered." 

"  To  keep  the  medium  between  dangerous  extremes, 
has  been  the  wise  polic}'  of  Lord  Rockingham's  admin- 
istration," answered  Mr.  Osborne.  "  In  the  present  state 
of  political  division,  it  is  perhaps  the  best  system  that 
can  be  pursued  for  the  general  interests  of  that  great 
country.  However,  this  plan  of  tacking  and  veering 
will  not  always  last.  Vf  e  must  have  liberty  on  a  found- 
ation as  broad,  sure,  and  permanent,  as  any  other  Brit- 
ish subjects,  before  we  shall  be  satisfied." 

"  England  will  never  relinquish  a  right  she  has  once 
asserted,"  replied  Somerville,  somewhat  proudly.  "  The 
effect  of  this  unaccountable  obstinacy  must  eventually  be 
a  desperate  struggle,  in  which  America  will  surely  be 
overcome." 

"  Our  spirit  may  never  be  put  to  the  proof,"  rejoined 


THE    REBELS.  173 

Doctor  Willard,  "  if  government  are  contented  with  keep- 
ing the  power,  without  ever  daring  to  exert  it.  But  if,  on 
any  pretence,  or  under  any  modifications,  it  is  again 
resumed,  we  must  indeed  either  conquer,  or  fall  in  the 
contest ;  and  the  eloquent  Chatham  has  said,  '  If  Amer- 
ica falls,  she  will  fall  like  a  strong  man.  She  will  em- 
brace the  pillars  of  the  state,  and  pull  do\^'n  the  constitu- 
tion alon^  with  her.'  " 

"  Much  wild  matter  has  been  poured  forth  by  that 
lover  of  ultra  freedom,"  answered  Somerville. 

Lucretia  smiled,  as  she  looked  back,  and  said  to 
Grace,  "  Captain  Somer^-ille's  English  prejudices  and 
tory  predilections  seem  to  have  returned  with  full 
power." 

As  she  spoke,  Somen-ille  pointed  down  a  court  they 
were  just  passing,  at  the  extremity  of  which  was  a  beau- 
tiful collection  of  shrubbery,  very  tastefully  illuminated. 
"  This  is  an  unusual  sight  in  Boston,"  said  he  ;  "  do  let 
us  examine  it  more  closely."  The  rest  of  the  party  went 
on,  without  noticing  what  had  attracted  their  attention, 
and  were  nearly  out  of  hearing,  when  they  entered  the 
alcove,  where  the  flowers  were  smiling  in  their  sheltered 
beauty. 

"  Are  any  of  these  for  sale  ?  "  inquired  Somerville. 

"I  should  not  like  to  disturb  them  to-night,"  replied 
the  owner  ;  "  but  to-morrow  they  will  be  at  the  service 
of  any  who  vrish  to  purchase." 

"  Will  3'ou,  dear  Grace,  select  the  one  you  think  most 
beautiful?"  said  Somerville. 

The  tender  monosyllable  had  unguardedly  escaped  his 
lips,  and  the  emphatic  accent  with  which  it  was  spoken 
thrilled  her  to  the  heart.     "Without  suspecting  his  pur- 

15^ 


174  THE    REBELS. 

pose,  she  timidly  pointed  to  a  full-blown  rose,  as  delicate 
and  shadowy  in  its  tint  as  the  maiden  suffusion  from 
which  it  takes  its  name. 

*'  Send  it  to  Governor  Hutchinson's  at  ten  to-mor- 
row," said  Somerville ;  and,  drawing  the  arm  of  Grace 
closer  within  his  own,  he  left  the  court. 

"  You  would  forgive  the  political  bitterness  with  which 
I  have  spoken  to-night,  Miss  Osborne,  if  you  knew  how 
much  reason  I  have  to  hate  this  repeal.  When  the 
vessel  which  brought  the  tidings  returns  to  England,  I 
must  depart  with  important  despatches  to  the  court  of 
St.  James." 

The  painful,  suffocating  sensation  of  impeded  utter- 
ance for  a  moment  prevented  any  reply.  "  Shall  you 
never  return  to  America  ?  "  she  at  length  said,  in  a  voice 
low  and  tremulous. 

"If  your  life  and  mine  are  spared  two  years,  I  shall 
most  certainly  see  America  again  before  I  die,"  he 
replied.     "  My  heart  will  never  leave  it." 

This  was  the  first  time  that  Somerville  had  given 
utterance  to  his  feelings,  even  by  the  most  distant  allu- 
sion ;  yet  they  had  long  perfectly  understood  each  other. 
The  powerful  artillery  of  the  eye,  and  the  thousand 
nameless  signs  in  love's  freemasonry,  express  more  than 
language  can  possibly  speak  with  her  utmost  unassisted 
power ;  and  if  Grace,  with  intuitive  readiness,  had  con- 
strued their  meaning,  Somerv^ille,  on  his  part,  had  argued 
much  from  the  transient  gleams  of  tenderness  that  now 
and  then  shone  through  her  habitual  reserve. 

However,  that  the  declaration  had  been  long  ex- 
pected, did  not  prevent  it  from  being  anticipated  with  the 
most  tumultuous  agitation,  and  the  most  embarrassed 
silence. 


THE    REBELS.  175 

To  the  great  vexation  of  Somerville,  this  was  dis- 
turbed by  the  elder  ^Ir.  Osborae  and  Lucretia,  who  had 
returned  to  meet  them. 

The  purchase  of  the  rose  was  briefly  explained,  in 
excuse  for  their  absence,  and  the  conversation  took  a 
general  turn,  until  they  parted  at  the  threshold  of  Mr. 
Osborne's  dwelling. 

The  next  day  the  flourishing  rose-bush,  removed  into 
an  elegant  vase  of  transparent  china,  was  left  at  the  door 
by  one  of  the  lieutenant  governor's  servants,  who,  at  the 
same  time,  delivered  a  note  for  Miss  Osborne. 

Grace  hastily  withdrew  to  her  chamber,  and  read  as 
follows  :  — 

"Dear  Grace  : 

"  This  flower,  pure  and  beautiful  as  yourself,  was  pur- 
chased for  you.  Will  you  accept  it  from  your  faithful 
lover  ?  Will  you  cherish  it,  for  his  sake,  during  the 
tedious  absence  to  which  he  is  doomed  ? 

"  Your  beauty  and  fascinating  gracefulness  will 
attract  others  as  powerfully  as  they  have  me  ;  and  amid 
the  attentions  of  some  m.ore  favored  lover,  I  may  per- 
chance be  forgotten. 

"  Were  I  sure  that  my  memor}'  would  be  fostered  in 
the  recesses  of  your  heart  —  that  my  image  alone  would 
be  enshrined  there  —  I  should  have  no  other  boon  to  ask 
of  indulgent  Heaven. 

"  If  the   ring  which  accompanies  this  is  permitted  to 
encircle  your  snowy  finger,  I  shall  consider  it  as  a  tacit 
promise  of  all  I  have   dared  to  hope.     If  not,  the  world 
has  nothing  to  offer,  for  v/hich  I  care  to  live. 
"  Ever  most  ardently  and  devotedly  yours, 

*•'  Frederick  Somerville." 


176  THE    REBELS. 

Had  Grace  been  entirely  uninterested  in  the  writer, 
she  would  have  thought  the  flattery  and  inflated  lan- 
guage of  this  epistle  absolutely  disgusting ;  but  we  are 
all  apt  to  excuse  the  folly  which  we  imagine  proceeds 
from  excessive  affection  for  ourselves.  The  billet-doux 
was  locked  in  a  secret  drawer,  with  feelings  that  cer- 
tainly widely  differed  from  disapprobation ;  and  the  ring, 
ornamented  by  a  single  sapphire,  surrounded  with  pearl, 
was  placed  upon  her  finger. 

I  shall  not  repeat  the  wise  speeches  and  expressive 
looks  to  which  this  circumstance  gave  rise.  Those  who 
cannot  imagine  them,  must  forever  remain  in  their  igno- 
rance. 

During  the  winter,  letters  had  again  been  received 
from  Mr.  Edmund  Fitzherbert,  expressing  great  anxiety 
to  see  Lucretia,  and  urging  her  to  come  to  him  as  soon 
as  the  season  would  possibly  admit. 

The  whole  of  these  epistles  had  been  written  by  an 
amanuensis ;  for  a  severe  stroke  of  the  palsy  had  ren- 
dered the  old  gentleman  unable  to  add  his  trembling 
signature. 

All  these  circumstances  considered.  Governor  Hutch- 
inson thought  it  expedient  that  Lucretia  should  accom- 
pany his  nephew  to  England. 

Perhaps  the  money-loving  magistrate  had  a  more 
powerful  motive  than  that  of  securing  a  pleasant  com- 
panion and  protector  for  Miss  Fitzherbert's  voyage.  He 
was  well  aware  that  daily  intercourse  is  a  powerful  aid 
to  matrimonial  schemes;  and  he  thought  the  immense 
wealth  of  the  young  heiress  a  prize  well  worth,  his 
nephew's  attention.  Had  he  been  injudicious  enough  to 
hint  such  an  idea,  Somerville  would  have  spumed  at  it 


THE    REBELS.  177 

with  indignation,  and  would  have  been  strongly  tempted 
to  refuse  his  attendance.  Governor  Hutchinson,  how- 
ever, was  sufficiently  wise  to  leave  all  to  the  effect  of 
time  and  chance. 

Whatever  might  be  the  workings  of  Lucretia's  mind, 
they  were  concealed  by  pride ;  and  she  herself  firmly 
believed  that  she  thought  of  Somerville  only  as  an  agree- 
able companion,  whose  gayety  and  eloquence  would 
serve  to  enliven  a  wearisome  voyage. 

The  event  had  been  too  long  expected,  to  bring  witn. 
it  any  hurried  preparations.  True,  Miss  Sandford  had 
been  in  a  continual  bustle,  from  the  moment  she  heard 
of  the  arrano-ement. 

Jewels,  lace,  gauze  and  ribbons,  were  purchased ;  and 
blue,  white,  and  rose-colored  damask  packed,  and  re- 
packed, from  morning  till  night. 

"Do  you  be  sure  and,  wear  your  pink  silk,  with  the 
set  of  rubies,  when  you  are  introduced  to  your  uncle,'* 
said  she.  "  That  color  becomes  your  complexion  best, 
and  I  would  wear  it  a  good  deal,  if  I  were  you.  Besides, 
Captain  Somerville  admires  it  very  much.  You  need 
not  blush  so.  You  are  going  to  take  a  long  voyage 
together ;  and,  let  me  tell  you,  my  dear,  propinquity  is 
a  great  thing." 

Lucretia  was  about  to  speak  of  the  certainty  of  his 
attachment  to  Grace  Osborne,  but  she  knew  it  was  a 
topic  on  which  the  good  lady  was  peculiarly  irascible. 
Besides,  from  complicated  causes,  both  the  young  ladies 
carefully  avoided  any  allusion  to-  the  state  of  his  affec- 
tions ;  and  though,  in  every  other  respect,  they  treated 
each  other  with  the  most  girlish  unreserve,  Lucretia  was 


178  THE    REBELS. 

left  in  a  state  of  painful  uncertainty  with  regard  to  this 
delicate  subiect. 

During  the  brief  space  that  intervened  before  her 
departure,  the  young  friends  seemed  to  feel  a  feverish 
anxiety  to  meet,  —  yet,  when  they  met,  they  were  dis- 
consolate and  silent. 

When  absent  from  each  other,  a  thousand  kind  things 
to  be  said  would  rush  into  the  mind ;  but  when  present, 
everything  gave  way  to  a  painful  sense  of  approaching 
separation. 

At  length  the  dreaded  day  arrived;  and  Governor 
Hutchinson  and  his  sister,  Mr.  Osborne  and  his  children, 
Doctor  Byles  and  Doctor  Willard,  assembled  to  bid 
farewell  to  the  travellers. 

Doctor  Byles  grasped  Lucretia's  hand,  with  affection- 
ate fervor,  as  he  said,  "  God  bless  you,  Miss  Fitzher- 
bert,  and  make  you  as  happy  as  you  deserve  to  be ! " 
It  was  a  moment  of  unfeigned  regret,  yet  he  could  not 
entirely  dispossess  himself  of  the  spirit  of  raillery.  With 
a  laughing  glance,  he  added,  "  And  that  is  not  saying 
much  for  you,  my  young  friend." 

Doctor  Willard  expressed  his  good  wishes,  with  his 
usual  warmth  and  frankness.  Governor  Hutchinson, 
always  courtier-like  in  his  manners,  gave  his  parting 
kiss  with  saddened  and  affectionate  politeness. 

Miss  Sandford,  again  and  again,  strained  her  beloved 
protegee  to  her  heart.  "  You  have  been  a  good  child  to 
me,"  she  said,  "  and  if  I  have  not  always  guided  you 
as  I  should,  you  must  take  the  will  for  the  deed."  She 
tried  to  say  something  more,  but,  unable  to  keep  back 
the  crowding  tears,  the  kind-hearted  lady  left  the  apart- 
ment. 


THE    REBELS.  179 

Mr.  Osborne's  benignant  countenance  seemed  to  ex- 
press anxiety,  as  well  as  love ;  and  Henry's  voice  lost  a 
little  of  its  firmness,  as  he  pronounced,  "  God  bless  you, 
Lucretia  I " 

As  for  Grace,  ber  heart  was  too  full  for  utterance. 
Her  breathing  was  quick  and  agitated ;  and  she  grasped 
Lucretia's  hand  with  a  strength  of  which  her  tiny  palm 
seemed  totally  incapable.  Her  friend  returned  the 
pressure  in  a  manner  equally  earnest  and  protracted; 
and,  as  their  hands  parted,  Somerville's  ring  burst  asun- 
der, and  fell  at  Miss  Fitzherbert's  feet.  As  he  returned 
it  to  Grace,  she  gave  hun  a  most  eager  and  expressive 
look.  Its  meaning  he  could  not  then  inquire  into,  for 
the  carriage  was  at  the  door,  and  their  farewell  must  be 
brief  and  hasty. 

The  accident  was,  unquestionably,  owing  to  defective 
workmanship;  nevertheless,  superstition  painfully  min- 
gled with  Miss  Osborne's  grief,  as  she  laid  the  broken 
relic  in  her  casket ;  —  and,  as  the  carriage  rolled  the 
young  Englishman  toward  the  wharf,  he  could  think  of 
nothing  but  that  triflins:  circumstance,  and  the  look  that 
accompanied  it. 


CHAPTEK    XV. 

'Mid  foreign  scenes,  to  fancy  dear, 
Remember  still  thy  home  is  here. 

Since  the  various  personages  in  our  history  are  re- 
moved to  such  a  distance  from  each  other,  we  must  take 
the  liberty  to  inspect  some  of  the  letters  that  passed 
between  them.  During  the  last  week  in  July,  sooner 
than  her  anxious  friends  had  ventured  to  expect  them, 
letters  arrived  from  Lucretia  Fitzherbert.  One  of  them 
was  as  follows : 

to  miss  grace  osbosne. 
"  Dear  Grace  : 

"  Here  I  am,  in  the  favored  land  of  the  brave,  the 
intelligent,  and  the  free.  Yet,  even  while  I  now  repeat 
it,  I  scarcely  credit  it.  I  feel  as  if  I  were  walking  in 
my  sleep ;  and  it  is  only  when  I  look  out  upon  the 
princely  buildings  around  me,  that  I  can  realize  I  am 
indeed  in  London.  Our  voyage  was  very  pleasant,  with 
the  exception  of  sea-sickness.  That,  however,  is  a  tax 
we  must  all  pay  to  old  Neptune  for  rocking  us  in  his 
cradle  somewhat  too  roughly.  (Pardon  me.  I  forgot 
that  the  odious  word  tax  is  banished  from  the  American 
vocabulary.) 

"  It  was  not  until  we  came  within  sight  of  this  ancient 
city,  that  I  felt  the  desolate  sensations  of  an  exile  from 
my  native  land.  We  cast  anchor  in  the  evening,  among 
a  forest  of  tall  black  masts.     The  bowsprits  threw  their 


THE    REBELS.  181 

grim  shadows  on  the  water,  and  seemed  like  so  many 
ugly  sea-monsters,  grinning  defiance  at  each  other. 
The  very  stars  looked  terrific  in  their  sublime  beauty. 
I  gazed  on  them  till  I  could  almost  imagine  the  Great 
Bear  shook  his  shaggy  head  above  me,  and  that  the 
various  fantastic  shapes  with  which  Chaldean  imagina- 
tion has  peopled  the  zodiac  were  frowning  upon  me  in. 
their  wrath. 

"  Far  ofT  in  the  distance  twinkled  the  many  hundred 
lights  of  London ;  and  among  all  the  busy  haunts  they 
illuminated,  poor  Lucretia  had  not  a  single  friend !  It 
was  a  sad,  sickening  thought,  dearest  Grace, —  and  my 
heart  yearned  for  beloved  America.  I  fancied  you 
seated  at  your  work-table,  listening  to  Henry,  as  he  read 
some  newly  arrived  volume,  and  the  tears  started  to  my 
eyes. 

"  Captain  Somerville  saw  that  I  was  melancholy,  and 
he  did  all  he  could  to  cheer  me.  We  sat  leaning  over 
the  stern  of  the  vessel,  until  a  late  hour,  talking  of  you, 
and  watching  the  motion  of  the  little  boat,  as  it  rose  and 
fell  with  the  rippling  tide.  The  shore,  on  either  side, 
was  noiseless  as  death ;  and  the  creaking  of  the  rigging, 
and  the  loud,  protracted  "  Hoa  up  hoy !  "  of  the  distant 
sailors   alone   reminded  us  that  they  were   from  New 

England. 

""Very  early  in  the  morning,  a  message  was  sent  to 
Uncle  Fitzherbert,  —  and,  according  to  Aunt  Sandford's 
directions,  I  dressed  myself  as  splendidly  as  possible ; 
for,  I  must  acknowledge,  I  felt  exceedingly  anxious  con- 
cerning my  reception.  At  our  usual  breakfasting  hour, 
Captain  Somerville  came  to  my  cabin,  and  told  me  that 
a  carriage  and  four,  with  servants  in  the  Fitzherbert 

17 


182  THE    REBELS. 

livery,  were  on  the  bank  of  the  river.  A  boat  was  im- 
mediately sent  from  the  vessel,  and  a  footman  returned 
in  it,  bringing  an  invitation  to  Captain  Somerville  and 
myself  to  breakfast  at  Tudor  Lodge.  Had  you  seen  my 
equipage,  you  would  not  wonder  that  my  eyes  were  a 
little  dazzled.  Phaeton  himself  might  have  been  proud 
of  the  horses ;  the  servants  were  in  rich  liveries  of  gray 
and  silver ;  the  polished  harness  glittered  in  the  morning 
sun;  the  Fitzherbert  arms  were  gorgeously  blazoned  on 
the  panels  of  the  carriage  ;  and  the  carriage  itself  was 
much  more  superb  than  anything  I  had  ever  seen  in  New 
England. 

"  We  were  whirled  along  by  villas,  hospitals,  and 
hotels,  any  one  of  which  seemed  to  me  sufficiently 
magnificent  for  a  royal  palace. 

"  The  coachman  stopped  before  a  large,  noble-looking 
building  of  Portland  stone,  with  a  piazza  in  front,  sup- 
ported by  a  range  of  Corinthian  pillars.  In  a  state  of 
dizzy  incredulity,  I  was  handed  up  the  steps,  and  paused 
in  the  drawing-room  until  my  arrival  was  announced. 

"  After  considerable  delay,  during  which  my  heart 
throbbed  high  with  expectation  and  anxiety,  I  was 
ushered  into  the  presence  of  my  uncle.  He  received  me 
with  great  pomp  and  etiquette,  seated  in  his  crimson 
velvet  chair,  in  a  morning  robe  of  the  same  materials. 
For  the  moment,  I  only  remxenibered  that  he  was  the 
first  of  my  kindred  I  had  ever  seen,  and  I  would  have 
rushed  into  his  arms  and  wept.  However,  I  imme- 
diately discovered  that  an  oriental  salaam  would  be  much 
more  acceptable  to  him.  Indeed,  it  was  too  evident  that 
my  personal   appearance   disappointed  him ;    but  when 


THE    REBELS.  183 

Captain    Somemlle   introduced   me,  he  took  my  hand 
with  stately  courtesy,  and  bade  me  welcome  to  England. 

"  Mrs.  Edgarton,  a  distant  relation,  of  middle  age, 
whose  polished  manners  indicate  habitual  intercourse 
with  the  fashionable  world,  superintends  his  establish- 
ment. She  seems  intelligent  and  cultivated.  But  she, 
too,  is  cold,  dignified  and  reserved. 

"  The  papers  are  full  of  the  arrival  of  Miss  Lucretia 
Fitzherbert,  the  newly  discovered  American  heiress, 
niece  of  the  Honorable  Edmund  Fitzherbert,  of  Tudor 
Lodge. 

'•  What  would  the  v.'orld  say,  if  they  knew  that,  with 
'  all  my  blushing  honors  thick  upon  me,'  I  often  retire  to 
m}*  chamber,  to  think  of  Boston,  and  give  vent  to  my 
tears,  as  they  start  up  from  their  fountain  of  bitterness  ? 
"Wealth  is  a  ^litterins;  and  much  coveted  bauble ;  but  the 
heart  cannot  nestle  in  it,  and  cling  to  it,  in  its  hour  of 
loneliness.  What  do  I  care  for  Turkey  carpets,  Parisian 
mirrors,  and  Chinese  vases,  when  every  being  around  me 
is  as  chilling  as  the  tessellated  marble  of  our  grand 
saloon  ?  Splendor  may  please  the  unsated  eye,  but  it 
carmot  relieve  a  heart  burstinsf  with  the  full  tide  of 
unemployed  tenderness.  Do  not  think,  by  this,  that  I  am 
unhappy.  It  only  means  that  I  am  not  yet  used  to 
stiffened  eleg-ance  and  magnificent  formality. 

"  You  cannot  imagine  with  how  much  delight  I  have 
accompanied  my  uncle  around  London  and  its  environs. 
The  city  itself,  so  varied  in  its  beauty  —  so  crowded  in 
its  grandeur  I  Then  there  is  such  life  —  such  energ}-  — 
such  never-ceasing  bustle  !  It  is  well  called  the  heart  of 
Britain;  for  it  seems  heaving  and  bounding  with  the 
ritahty  of  a  whole  em.pire.     Of  the  suburbs,  I  am  almost 


184  THE    REBELS. 

tempted  to  say  nothing ;  for  I  despair  of  giving  you  an 
idea  how  lovely  are  the  scenes  among  which  the  Thames 
has  spread  the  silver  drapery  of  his  couch.  Turrets 
and  steeples  peer  above  the  foliage,  as  if  on  tiptoe,  to 
view  the  dimpled  course  of  this  majestic  river ;  clusters 
of  ancient  elms  dance  gracefully  to  the  wayward  music 
of  the  winds  ;  venerable  oaks  stand  like  a  firm  phalanx, 
in  their  towering  strength  ;  the  fragile  willows  bend  over 
their  w'atery  mirror,  sad  and  drooping,  as  if  passion- 
stricken  with  their  own  shadow^s ;  and  the  blossoms  are 
so  abundant,  in  their  luxuriant  beauty,  that  one  would 
think  Flora,  enamored  of  the  spot,  had  flung  all  her  gar- 
lands there,  in  frolic.  The  goddess,  however,  is  not  so 
partial  in  the  distribution  of  her  favors.  Your  American 
pastures  are  doubtless  covered  wdth  wild-flowers.  The 
violet  lifts  up  its  timid  blue  eye,  in  supplication,  as 
if  loath  to  be  crushed,  even  by  your  fairy  foot;  the 
anemone  is  gradually  changing  its  rose-tint  to  the  purest 
white,  like  maidens  outgrowing  their  youthful  blushes ; 
and  the  beautiful  trillium  bows  its  starry  head  beneath 
its  dark-green  leaves,  like  a  scared  and  petted  infant, 
hidinsr  its  bashful  face  behind  a  mother's  shelterino-  arm. 
"  O,  when  I  think  of  all  our  pleasant  rambles,  our 
unreserved  communications,  and  our  playful  disputes,  it 
seems  as  if  my  heart  would  burst  its  tenement,  and 
bound  forward  to  meet  you  !  I  told  Somerville  so,  this 
morning;  and  I  thought  he  sympathized  in  my  impa- 
tience most  warmly. 

"  By  the  way,  he  called  to  take  me  to  Westminster 
Abbey,  —  the  first  public  place  I  have  visited,  since  my 
arrival. 

"  If  Henry  had  not  told  you  about  it  again  and  again, 


THE    KEEELS.  185 

'J  would  iaform  you  how  I  stood  in  the  Poet's  Corner,  and 
*  held  high  converse  with  the  mighty  dead ; '  what 
exuhation  I  felt  when  I  saw  that  the  sceptre  had  fallen 
from  the  powerless  hand  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  —  that 
self-same  cruel  hand  that  signed  the  death-warrant  of  the 
beautiful  Mary  Stuart ;  and  how,  amid  all  this  '  pomp 
and  circumstance'  of  mortality,  the  figure  of  Mr.  Night- 
ingale, shielding  his  beloved  wife  from  the  impending 
dart  of  death,  was  the  only  thing  that  touched  me  with 
melancholy.  I  was  indeed  powerfully  excited  by  the 
whole  scene.  Association  seems  to  hold  her  court  in. 
this  mansion  of  departed  glory ;  and  as  her  magic  fingers 
touch  the  octaves  in  the  human  soul,  imagination  runs 
rapidly  over  the  intermediate  notes.  When  I  came  from 
the  loner  and  srloomv  labyrinths  of  this  ancient  abbey,  I 
felt  as  if  I  had  actually  been  in  Elysium,  talking  with 
kings,  heroes,  statesmen,  and  poets.  Why  did  not  Henry 
tell  us  how  his  heart  ached  when  he  passed  from  that 
still,  solemn  sanctuary  of  the  dead,  into  all  the  tumult 
of  this  noisy  city?  But  then  he  never  speaks  with 
enthusiasm;  unless,  indeed,  you  rouse  him  up  about 
American  taxation.  Well,  perhaps  the  glowing  embers, 
kept  alive  on  the  secret  shrine  of  Apollo,  burned  with 
more  intense  and  consuming  heat,  than  Cybele's  torches, 
ilarina:  on  the  midnight  air. 

"  I  shall  never  have  done,  if  I  ^vrite  all  I  wish  to 
say ;  for  the  thoughts  rush  into  my  mind  so  furiously 
that  they  push  each  other  down  in  their  course.  Most 
sincere  and  respectful  affection  to  your  good  father  ;  and 
to  all  my  friends  the  kindest  wishes  they  can  desire  from 
me.     Write  soon,  and  remember  to  speak  of  Gertrude 

16^ 


186  THE    REBELS. 

Percival.  Do  not  forget  me,  dearest  Grace,  nor  suffer 
any  one  I  love  to  forget  me. 

"With  heartfelt,  soulfelt  affection  for  you  all,  I  am,  as 
ever,  Lucretia  Fitzherbert." 

Grosvenor-square,  June  10,  1766. 

Letters  of  similar  import  arrived  for  Governor  Hutch- 
inson and  Miss  Sandford ;  but  none  other  was  sent  to 
the  Osborne  family. 

"Has  wealth  and  splendor  so  soon  dazzled  him?" 
thought  Grace.  "Have  a  few-brief  months  extinguished 
the  love  he  said  would  be  eternal?  If  he  can  be  so 
capricious,  it  is  well  for  me  that  I  was  not  united  to  him. 
My  father  and  brother  never  confided  in  his  principles 
—  why  did  I  doubt  their  judgment?  Well,  it  is  but  a 
painful  struggle  with  myself,  at  the  most ;  and  I  can 
make  it  the  more  cheerfully,  since  they  are  ignorant 
of  it." 

Whether  to  hear  of  a  lover  so  gay,  gallant,  and  atten- 
tive to  another,  without  receiving  one  line  from  him,  to 
indicate  his  kind  remembrance,  would  not  have  awakened 
similar  suspicions  in  any  mind,  we  know  not.  Certain 
it  is,  that  every  allusion  Lucretia  had  made  to  Captain 
Somerville  was  exceedingly  painful  to  Miss  Osborne, 
excepting  where  she  WTote,  "  We  talked  of  you  till  a  late 
hour."  She  thought  upon  the  subject  until  her  fears 
ripened  into  conviction ;  and,  though  she  resolved  to 
rejoice  in  the  prospects  of  her  friend,  she  could  not  read 
her  letter  without  weeping,  in  the  bitterness  of  her  heart. 
To  these  feelings  may  be  partially  attributed  the  sadness 
that  pervades  the  following  epistle. 


the  rebels.  187 

to  miss  lucretia  fitzherbekt. 

"  Dear  Lucretia  : 

"  We  last  week  received  your  long  and  affectionate 
letter.  I  was  delighted,  but  not  dazzled,  with  your  pic- 
ture of  London.  I  love  my  own  quiet  chamber  better 
than  I  should  marble  saloons  or  Corinthian  piazzas.  Yet 
our  humble  mansion  has  been  sad  enough,  since  you  left 
us.  My  father's  health  fails  daily;  and  long,  long- 
before  you  return  to  us,  Lucretia,  I  fear  the  dear,  vener- 
able old  man  will  have  gone  to  his  last  home.  It  grieves 
me  to  think  of  it.  Yet  why  should  they,  whose  lives 
have  been  stainless,  and  their  purposes  all  holy,  shrink 
from  the  hand  that  enrobes  them  with  immortality  ? 
Young  as  I  am,  there  are  times  when  I  would  lay  down 
my  weary,  aching  head,  and  sleep,  never  more  to  wake 
in  this  cold  world,  as  cheerfully  as  the  tired  infant 
presses  the  soft  pillow  of  its  cradle. 

"  I  know  this  is  not  the  right  spirit.  Those  who 
would  take  up  the  cross  and  follow  their  Divine  Master, 
must  be  resigned  to  live,  as  well  as  to  die.  Yet  how 
hard  it  is  to  endure  life,  when  those  we  have  loved  are 
dropping  around  us,  like  the  leaves  of  autumn !  —  when 
the  smiles,  that  have  been  as  sunshine  to  the  soul,  have 
left  it  all  dark  and  lonely !  and  tones  that  have  been 
dear,  yea,  very  dear,  to  us,  are  heard  no  longer  !  I  am 
foolishl}'  melancholy,  just  this  moment ;  and  I  am  child- 
ish enough  to  dip  my  pen  in  my  heart. 

"  My  father's  sickness  and  uncommon  depression  of 
spirits  casts  a  shadow  over  everything.  Not  only  has  it 
rendered  our  dwelling  dismal,  —  but  the  sky  does  not 
seem  so  blue,  nor  the  grass  so  green,  as  it  did  last  sum- 
mer.    You,  I  dare  say,  would  make  some  sparkling  met- 


1S8  THE    PtEBELS. 

aphor  concerning  such  a  state  of  things  ;  but  I  have  not 
the  gift.  Henry  smiled,  \Yhen  I  showed  him  your  letter, 
and  said  it  did  one  as  much  good  to  read  anything  of 
yours,  as  it  did  to  see  a  bed  of  tulips  blown  about  by  the 
wind.  You  see  he  has  imagination,  my  dear  friend.  He 
has  enthusiasm,  too,  though  few  discover  it.  Ought  I 
to  tell .  you,  or  ought  I  not,  that  when  he  returned  your 
letter,  I  found  what  3'ou  had  written  of  him  cut  out  ? 
He  seems  in  excellent  spirits,  —  always  doing  something 
to  make  us  happy  and  cheerful ;  but  there  are  things  the 
heart  never  forgets,  you  know,  how  calmly  soever  it  may 
remember  them.  I  have  not  seen  him  roused,  on  the 
subject  of  taxation,  latel}^  Indeed,  the  times  are  now 
so  peaceful  and  quiet,  that  it  is  seldom  mentioned,  even 
when  Doctor  Willard  is  here.  By  the  way,  I  read  a 
part  of  your  letter  to  him ;  and  I  assure  j^ou,  his  express- 
ive black  eyes  grew  brighter  and  brighter  at  every  line. 
I  wonder  he  was  not  captivated  with  you,  Lucretia,  —  you 
are  so  very  much  like  each  other.  You  cannot  tell  how 
solicitous  he  is  concerning  our  good  father,  —  how  anx- 
ious about  every  symptomx,  —  how  enlivening  in  his  con- 
versation, whenever  the  invalid  can  bear  it,  —  and  how 
still,  kind  and  careful,  when  his  spirits  are  exhausted. 
It  is  very  painful  not  to  repay  the  love  of  a  heart  so  gen- 
erous and  tender ;  and  when,  day  after  day,  I  meet  the 
same  affectionate  glance,  and  hear  the  same  mild,  insin- 
uating tones,  it  seems  such  a  deep  and  stinging  reproach 
to  my  ingratitude,  that  I  half  believe  it  possible  —  but 
the  affections  are  stubborn  things,  and  are  not  easily  bent 
according  to  our  wishes. 

"  I  have  received  tw^o  letters  from  Gertrude,  since  you 
left.     Thev  reside  at  a  beautiful  country  seat,  not  far 


THE    REBELS,  189 

from  Montreal ;  and  they  have  both  sent  the  most  urgent 
invitations  for  us  to  visit  them  this  summer.  She  has 
unproved  wonderfully  in  her  hand-A\Titing.  '  Who,'  she 
asks,  'can  do  otherwise,  when  Edward  Percival  is  the 
instructor?'  Still,  her  letters  are  as  stiff,  straight,  and 
precise,  as  Madam  Sandford.  Will  you  pardon  the  com- 
parison? AYith  regard  to  Canada,  even  if  my  father 
were  well  enough,  I  should  not  have  spirit  sufficient  to 
make  the  exertion.  Long  may  they  live,  to  enjoy  their 
romantic  attachment.  Mr.  Percival  has  sent  me  a  very 
neat  and  handsome  set  of  jewels.  I  thanked  him,  be- 
cause I  knew  he  meant  it  kindly ;  but  I  shall  never  wear 
them.  If  you  had  not  a  variety  much  more  elegant,  I 
would  send  them  to  you.  Do  you  know  Henry  has  at 
length  persuaded  me  to  have  my  portrait  taken?  Yes, 
there  I  am,  in  our  little  breakfast-parlor,  smiling  as  gra- 
ciously as  if  I  looked  on  absent  friends.  My  brother 
says,  '  Tell  Lucretia  I  am  the  same  sincere  well-wisher;' 
and  my  father  adds,  '  You  must  leave  a  corner  of  your 
paper,  that  I  may  try  to  hold  a  pen  long  enough  to  give 
her  my  blessing.'  In  order  to  comply  with  his  request, 
I  must  close  by  saying, 

"I  am  your  very  affectionate 

"  Grace  Osborne." 

After  this  letter  had  been  twice  read,  it  occurred  to 
Miss  Osborne  that  Captain  Somervdlle  might  have  possi- 
bly sent  a  letter,  and  that  the  precious  document  might 
have  been  detained,  by  accident  or  misfortune.  With  a 
trembling  hand,  she  wrote,  — 

"P.  S.  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  we  have  inquired 
after  Molly  Bradstreet  to  no  purpose.     I  regret  it;  for 


190  THE    REBELS. 

our  curiosity  was  as  much  excited  as  yours.  Should 
Captain  Somerville  ever  ask  about  the  rose  he  left  with 
me,  you  may  tell  him  it  is  carefully  nurtured,  and  blos- 
soms finely." 

On  the  last  page,  were  a  few  sentences,  written  in  a 
weak,  irregular  hand.     They  were  as  follows  :  — 

"  My  Dear  Child  : 

"Never  was  'news  from  a  far  country'  more  wel- 
come than  your  letter.  X^one  of  us  knew  how  dear  you 
were,  till  ^'^ou  were  gone  from  us.  Poor  Grace  goes  from 
room  to  room,  and  looks  at  every  memento  of  you  with 
such  utter  sadness,  that  one  would  think  you  were  actu- 
ally in  your  grave ;  and  when  she  hears  a  knock,  she 
will  sometimes  start,  and  then  check  herself,  as  she 
says,  '  I  was  thinking  Lucretia  was  at  the  door.'  Alas  ! 
how  apt  we  all  are  to  give  the  freshness  and  vigor  of 
our  affections  to  earthly  objects,  and  thus  have  nothing 
to  offer  our  Heavenly  Father,  but  'the  lame,  the  halt, 
and  the  blind.'  The  heathen  offered  the  fairest  flowers, 
and  the  choicest  fruits,  to  their  gods;  and  shall  we,  on 
whom  the  Gospel  has  shone,  do  less  than  they  ?  Vfhile 
the  cup  of  life  is  sparkling  at  your  eager  lips,  do  not  for- 
get the  kind  hand  which  offered  it.  Remember,  my 
dear,  there  is  a  friend  on  whom  to  rely,  when  all  others 
fail  us.  There  is  no  public  news  of  importance.  It  has 
pleased  the  Lord  to  give  us  peace,  if  not  security.  One 
'barninof  and  shininfr  liofht'  Has  been  removed  from  us. 
I  mean  the  much  lamented  Doctor  Mayhew.  I  need  not 
talk  of  his  talents  to  one  w^io  heard  his  eloquent  sermon 
on  the  repeal  of  the  stamp  act ;  but  of  his  piety,  his 


THE    REBELS.  191 

integi'ity,  his  industry  and  zeal,  I  would,  had  I  strength,  • 
MTite  for  hours.  Durinsr  his  short  life,  he  did  much  in 
the  cause  of  civil  and  religious  liberty.  I  do  not  believe 
there  ever  was  mortal  man  that  more  faithfully  served 
his  countr)^  and  his  God.  Alas!  that  he  left  not  his 
mantle  behind  him. 

"  I  have  written  this  at  many  different  times,  and  with 
great  pain,  my  dear  girl.  My  heart  says  more  ;  but  my 
trembling-  hand  will  not  convey  it.  Yet  a  little  while 
longer,  and  the  soul  \^'ill  drop  its  burden  of  clay.  I  can 
only  add,  God  bless  you,  even  with  the  greatest  of  all 
blessings — a  disposition  to  do  his  will. 

"Your  affectionate  father, 

"Ja3IES  0SB0R^^E." 
Queen-street,  August  1st,  1766.    " 

Some  readers  m.ay  have  the  curiosity  to  break  the  seal 
of  Somendlle's  letter  to  Governor  Hutchinson ;  though, 
perhaps,  when  they  find  it  so  deeply  tinged  with  the 
politics  of  the  day,  they  may  think  they  pay  somewhat 
dearly  for  their  whistle. 

to  his  honor,  thomas  hutchln'son. 
"  Dear  Uxcle  : 

"  I  delivered  your  letters  according  to  their  direc- 
tions ;  and  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say,  that  the  general 
opinion  here  is  entirely  in  favor  of  your  views.  It  is, 
however,  very  difficult  to  ascertain  what  course  will  be 
taken,  for  never  was  there  such  a  heterogeneous,  unin- 
telligible mass,  as  the  present  ministry-.  They  are  made 
up  of  the  shreds  and  patches  of  all  political  opinions  — • 
a  confused  jumble  of  ever}'-  shade  and  hue  of  whigism. 


19-2  THE   REBELS. 

"  The  Marquis  of  Rockingliam  did,  indeed,  come  info 
the  government  at  a  peculiarly  difficult  crisis.  The 
Regency  Bill,  of  course,  made  an  enemy  of  Lord  Bute, 
because  the  public  chose  to  implicate  him  in  its  odium ; 
the  Duke  of  Grafton  has  forsaken  their  standard,  be- 
cause he  is  offended  at  their  treatment  of  Wilkes ; 
Chatham  is  as  wavering  and  inconsistent  as  ever,  and 
his  powerful  friend,  the  excellent  Duke  of  Cumberland, 
died  soon  after  his  administration  began.  On  the  whole, 
it  is  evident  that  another  transformation  will  soon  take 
place.  Pitt  seems  to  have  the  power  to  lord  it  over  king 
and  parliament;  how  he  will  exert  his  influence,  nobody 
knows — unless  he  has  some  conjecture  himself,  which 
his  undecided  character  renders  very  doubtful.  That 
confoundedly  clever  laAvj^er,  young  Burke,  gashes  him 
deeply  in  the  public  papers.  The  articles  in  question 
possess  abundance  of  good  sense,  as  well  as  cutting  irony. 
The  resolution  against  general  warrants,  passed  in  the 
House  of  Commons,  has  brought  Wilkes  back  to  Lou- 
den. He  is  here,  threatening  to  annoy  the  government, 
or  make  his  fortune  out  of  its  fears.  The  plan  of  Amer- 
ican taxation  is  by  no  means  given  up.  Charles  Town- 
send  is  as  eager  for  it  as  he  is  for  office.  He  thinks  to 
make  it  go  doA^m  by  giving  it  a  different  name.  He  has 
not,  like  me,  seen  an  American  mob,  heard  Otis  speak, 
and  Doctor  Willard  talk.  You  will  judge  what  views  he 
and  others  entertain,  by  the  letters  and  documents  that 
accompany  this. 

"  Mr.  Fitzherbert  talks  much  of  what  5"ou  have  done 
for  his  niece;  and  seems  to  think  he  cannot  load  me 
with  favors  enough  to  evince  his  gratitude.  He  is  a 
formal  and  somewhat  fastidious  old  man ;  but  when  the 


THE    REBELS.  193 

crust  is  once  broken,  he  proves  to  have  a  warm  heart. 
He  is  a  professed  connoisseur  in  female  beauty,  —  and  he 
vs'as,  of  course,  disappointed  in  Miss  Fitzherbert.  He 
is  unbounded  in  his  hospitality,  and  his  sen-ants'  hall 
shows  much  of  the  prodigality  of  feudal  times.  I  shall, 
if  possible,  induce  him  to  keep  open  doors  for  the  choice 
literar}'  spirits  that  are  now  clustering  together  in  this 
metropolis.  This  will  bring  Lucretia  forvrard  to  the 
best  advantage ;  and  perhaps  we  all  love  our  friends  bet- 
ter, when  we  have  reason  to  be  proud  of  them.  I  can 
see  that  her  vivacity  and  good  sense  gain  upon  his  affec- 
tions daily.  She  is,  indeed,  a  fine  girl.  No  one  can 
know  her,  without  admiring  her. 

"  The  myster}'  concerning  the  report  of  -Mr.  Fitzher- 
bert's  death  is  all  explained.  When  you  sent  to  Eng- 
land, in  1760,  to  inquire  concerning  Lucretia's  connec- 
tions, he  was  very  sick  at  Manilla;  and  a  profligate  rela- 
tion of  his  palmed  the  stor}'  upon  his  creditors,  in  order 
to  relieve  himself  from  temporar}'  embarrassment.  Mr. 
Fitzherbert  is  so  indignant  at  this  unfeeling  deception, 
that  he  will  not  consent  to  see  him. 

"  There  is  a  great  intimacy  between  Mr.  Fitzherbert 
and  the  ^Marquis  of  Rockingham.  He  procured  Burke 
the  situation  of  private  secretarj^  to  his  lordship. 

"  I  send  you  an  elegant  edition  of  Swift,  lately  pub- 
lished, which  please  to  accept. 

"Respects    to    ]\Iadam    Sandford,  and  kind   remem 
brance  to  Doctor  Byles  and  the  Osbomes. 

"I  am  your  humble  and  obedient  servant, 

"  Frederic  So:.ier\tlle." 
Piccaddhj,  June  12th,  1766. 

17 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

There  are  feelings  that  no  human  agency  can  limit.;  and  mental 
wounds  too  deep  for  the  art  of  man  to  heal.  —  The  Spy. 

Mr.  Osborne's  prediction  with  regard  to  the  repeal  of 
the  stamp  act  proved  too  true.  The  subject  of  Ameri- 
can taxation  was  again  discussed  in  the  British  parlia- 
ment, and  eventuated  in  the  revenue  act  of  '  67 ;  which 
consisted  of  sundry  duties  on  tea,  glass,  paper,  and 
painters'  colors.  This  law  was  palmed  upon  the  colonies 
under  the  name  of  an  external  tax,  for  the  regulation  of 
commerce ;  and  the  framers  of  it  presumed  it  would  not 
interfere  with  their  established  prejudices  with  regard  to 
internal  taxation. 

Howeverj  Burke  has  well  said  that  "to  tax  and  to 
please,  no  more  than  to  love  and  to  be  wise,  is  not  given 
to  men."  This  fine-spun  scheme  of  policy  was  received 
with  even  more  indignation  than  had  yet  been  expressed. 

Mr.  Osborne,  weakened  by  lingering  illness,  traced  the 
consequences  of  this  second  attack  on  the  liberties  of  his 
country,  with  such  intense  anxiet)^  that  the  faculties  of 
the  venerable  patriot  were  completely  deranged;  and 
America  was  thus  deprived  of  his  counsels,  at  a  time 
when  she  most  needed  the  wisdom  of  all  her  sons. 

His  insanity  seemed  to  take  its  coloring  from  the  mild- 
ness and  humility  of  his  character.  It  never  assumed  a 
wild  and  boisterous  appearance;  but  there  were  times 
when  he  would  refrain  from  food  for  days  in  succession. 


THE    REBELS.  195 

and  pray,  with  the  earnest  pleadings  of  indulged 
infancy,  that  the  eyes  of  the  king  might  be  opened, 
before  they  awoke  on  the  blood  and  ruin  of  his  fairest 
territories. 

The  heart  of  Henry  would  ache  almost  to  bursting, 
when  he  watched  him  in  these  wayward  moods.  "  0, 
England!"  he  would  say,  as  he  pressed  his  hand  to  his 
forehead,  —  "  O,  England  I  what  a  WTeck  hast  thou 
made!" 

"Did  you  speak  of  England?"  cried  the  unfortunate 
father,  starting  from  his  trance,  —  "I  tell  you,  young 
man,  that  the  sceptre  shall  depart  from  her;  and  the 
lawgiver  from  between  her  feet.  The  time  will  come 
when  she  will  rend  her  purple  robe,  and  mourn  her  folly 
in  sackcloth  and  ashes.  I  saw  it,"  muttered  he,  looking 
upward,  with  a  vacant  and  frightened  aspect,  —  "I  saw 
it  in  the  clouds.  Blood  and  destruction  were  in  its 
train." 

"  My  dear  father,"  said  Henr}',  "  think  of  the  God  in 
whom  you  have  alwa3's  trusted." 

"  I  do,  my  son,  I  do.  I  have  prayed  to  Him ;  and 
verily  He  hath,  heard  me  in  my  affliction.  But,"  added 
he,  lowering  his  voice  to  a  most  impressive  whisper,  — 
"Liberty  is  in  her  shroud!  I  saw  her  pass  by,  in  the 
robes  of  the  tomb."  ^  Then  the  habitual  associations  of 
the  pulpit  would  come  over  hun ;  and  he  would  point  to 
heaven,  as  he  exclaimed,  "  But  there  is  a  resurrection, 
my  hearers,  —  there  is  a  resurrection." 

The  imagination  shrinks  from  decay  of  any  kind; 
but  what  is  so  dreadful  as  the  ^^Teck  of  our  proudest  pre- 
rogative ?  What  so  awful  as  the  ruins  of  mind  ?  To 
poor   Grace,  her   father's   situation   seemed   an   ahnost 


196  THE    REBELS. 

insupportable  burden  of  distress ;  yet  it  was  really  salu- 
tary. One  great  absorbing  affliction  left  no  room  for 
petty  griefs ;  and  the  disappointed  girl  found,  in  constant 
occupation  and  unwearied  anxiety,  the  verj'  best  medi- 
cine for  a  heart  sickening  with  hope  deferred. 

A  beloved  object  is  always  encircled  with  a  radiant 
halo,  which  brightens  everything  around  it;  and  not- 
withstanding its  absence  had  rendered  the  sky  less  blue, 
and  the  grass  less  green,  Miss  Osborne,  fortunately  for 
herself,  had  not  leisure  to  be  always  dwelling  upon  the 
change.  Her  father  was  now  her  daily  care,  and  her 
nightly  dream;  but  though  his  children  often  succeeded 
in  their  attempts  to  soothe  and  divert  him,  their  kind 
attentions  produced  no  permanent  effects. 

Doctor  Willard  had  hopes  that  new  scenes  and 
change  of  air  might  restore  hhn;  and  therefore  recom- 
mended a  journey  to  Canada.  Accordingly,  in  midsum- 
mer, 1767,  the  whole  family  set  out  upon  their  northern 
expedition. 

Mr.  Osborne  had  been  beyond  Albany  in  1753,  when 
most  of  the  country  was  in  primeval  wilderness.  But 
fourteen  years  had  elapsed,  yet  the  scenery  had,  in  many 
places,  great  pretensions  to  rural  beauty;  and  so  rapid 
had  been  the  growth  of  towns  and  villages,  that  it 
seemed  as  if  the  hand  of  magic  had  at  once  invested  its 
grandeur  with  the  robe  of  gracefulness. 

In  his  intervals  of  rationality,  the  invalid  noticed  these 
changes,  and  would  speak  of  them  with  rapture  ;  —  then 
he  would  compare  the  past  prosperity  of  his  country  with 
its  future  misery,  and  the  light  of  reason  would  ag-ain 
glimmer  and  sink  in  its  socket. 

His  weak  state  of  mind  and  body  rendered  it  abso- 


THE    REBELS.  197 

lutely  necessary  to  travel  by  short  stages,  and  keep  him 
free  from  all  mental  excitement;  but  the  spirit  of  the 
countr}'  was  so  universally  roused,  that  they  found  the 
latter  exceedingly  difficult.  The  rumor  that  a  gentle- 
man from  Massachusetts,  crazed  in  the  cause  of  liberty, 
was  travelling  to  the  North,  went  before  them ;  and  not 
only  did  they  ever}^^'here  meet  with  the  most  compas- 
sionate sympathy,  but  frequently,  as  their  humble  equip- 
age drove  from  the  inn,  a  few,  less  judicious  in  their 
kindness,  would  shout,  "  Hurra  for  New  England ! " 
"  Long  life  to  the  patriot ! "  At  Albany,  Grace  watched 
by  her  father  until  she  saw  him  in  a  quiet  slumber, 
before  she  descended  to  the  supper-room.  At  the  door 
she  met  the  landlady,  who,  in  a  cautious  whisper,  asked 
if  they  had  ordered  tea.  The  mild  and  timid  beauty 
answered,  in  a  tone  of  unusual  decision,  "  No,  madam,  I 
am  an  American." 

Henr}',  suspecting  the  nature  of  the  question,  added, 
"  And  no  American  woman  ought,  for  a  moment,  to  for- 
get that  she  can  do  much  for  a  cause  in  which  husbands 
and  sons,  fathers  and  brothers,  are  ahke  suffering." 
The  countenance  of  the  hostess  brightened  —  she 
courtesied,  begged  a  thousand  pardons  —  said  they  were 
exactly  of  her  wa}^  of  thinking,  and  left  the  apartment. 

"Our  good  father  sleeps  quietl}',  does  he  not?" 
inquired  Henn'.  On  being  answered  in  the  affirmative, 
he  observed,  "  I  need  not  caution  you,  my  dear  girl,  to 
be  careful  about  giving  such  spirited  answers,  when  he  is 
waking." 

"I  am  not  xeTj  apt  to  speak  on  politics,"  replied 
Grace ;  "  for  it  is  a  subject  on  which  I  do  not  love  to 
hear  ladies  talk;  but,  in  these  times,  it  is  fitting  tliey 

17-^ 


198 


TUT.    Kr.BF.LS. 


should  act.  If  John  Dudley,  and  all  the  honest  farmers 
in  the  country,  can  refrain  from  mutton,  in  order  to 
raise  wool  enough  to  manufacture  our  own  cloth,  and 
vex  the  English  merchants,  I  surely  can  dispense  with 
the  petty  luxury  of  tea." 

"Well  said,  my  patriotic  sister,"  rejoined  Henry, 
playfully  kissing  her  forehead.  "I  really  think  you 
could  proselyte  the  most  inveterate  tory  to  the  good 
cause,  if  you  were  to  set  about  it  in  earnest." 

A  shade  of  melancholy  passed  over  her  face.  There 
was  something  in  that  word  "tory"  that  called  up  a 
thousand  recollections  of  "auld  lang  syne."  Captain 
Somerville  had  written  one  letter  to  her  brother,  in  a 
style  strangely  studied  and  formal.  She  herself  had  not 
received  a  single  line ;  and  Lucretia,  ignorant  how  much 
she  was  wounding  her  friend,  spoke  of  him  as  her  ahnost 
constant  companion. 

Perhaps  this  unaccountable  neglect  had  given  addi- 
tional fervor  to  political  feelings,  ever  deeply  imbedded 
in  Miss  Osborne's  heart,  though  her  bashful  lips  had 
seldom  given  them  utterance.  Certain  it  is,  that  our 
best  and  most  disinterested  motives  will  always,  upon 
strict  inquiry,  be  found  more  complex  than  we  had 
imagined. 

The  place  which  their  Canadian  friends  had  chosen 
for  a  residence  seemed  like  an  Eden,  pure  and  lovely 
enough  to  drive  away  the  disease  and  miser}^  attendant 
on  mortality.  It  was  one  of  those  rmmerous  islands, 
which  the  St.  LawTence  so  well  loves  to  encircle  in  his 
arms.  The  house  was  situated  at  the  foot  of  a  thickly 
wooded  hill,  then  rich  with  the  verdant  foliage  of  sum- 
mer.    The  trees  threw  their  broad,  deep  shadows  along 


THE    I^EBF.LS.  199 

the  mighty  river ;  and  the  tasteful  simplicity  of  the  cot- 
tage, reflected  on  its  majestic  surface,  seemed  like  the 
dove  of  contentment  folding  its  soft  vring  over  the 
waters. 

The  heart  could  not,  in  its  most  craving  mood,  require 
a  more  cordial  welcome  than  our  travellers  received  from 
Edward  Percival  and  his  young  wife;  and  Henry 
eagerly  indulged  the  hope  that  their  unpretending  kind- 
ness, together  with  the  tranquillity  of  their  sequestered 
situation,  would  ultunately  win  back  the  scattered  intel- 
lects of  his  venerable  father. 

However,  it  seemed,  for  a  while,  as  if  the  xery  peace- 
fulness  of  his  retreat  was  converted  into  a  source  of 
uneasiness.  ^Vith  the  wa^^wardness  of  lunacy,  he  con- 
nected everj'thing  around  him  with  the  painful  subject 
that  had  unnerved  his  system.  Even  the  melody  of 
the  woods  was  torture  to  him.  "  Here  we  are,"  said 
he,  "  hstening  to  the  singing  of  birds,  when  ever}'  soul 
should  be  up  and  active  in  the  cause  of  freedom.  Hark ! 
Do  you  hear  the  oar  of  the  smuggler,  as  he  sweeps  round 
the  cove  ?  He  goes  to  offer  to  New  England  what  she 
should  never  taste." 

Sometimes  the  bright,  stiU  surface  of  the  river,  with 
luxuriance  and  beauty  reposing  on  its  bosom,  awakened 
sensations  of  'itter  WTetchedness ;  and  he  would  lay  his 
hand  impressively  on  Henr}''s  shoulder,  and  exclaim, 
"  Younof  man,  you  will  live  to  see  that  water  stained 
with  the  blood  of  your  brethren.  I  see  it,"  continued  he, 
covering  his  eyes,  —  "I  see  it  gushing  at  ever}'  pore." 

At  a  later  period,  when  the  St.  Lavrrence  foamed  and 
dashed  its  angry  answer  to  the  autumnal  storms,  he 
would    sav,   "Yes,  fret    and    roar  in  thy  ^^Tath,  —  the 


200  THE    RriBELS. 

Storm  will  come,  and  burst  in  fury  over  us  all.  The 
roar  of  the  cannon,  and  the  burden  of  the  fleet,  will  come 
upon  you  in  an  hour  when  you  think  not  of  it." 

Grace  and  her  friend  watched  over  him,  in  these  hours 
of  desolation,  with  that  soothing  and  judicious  tender- 
ness in  which  woman  alone  is  skilled.  Day  after  day, 
the  sick  man  might  be  seen  taking  his  slow  and  circum- 
scribed walk,  leaning  on  his  daughter  and  Mrs.  Percival. 
Those  who  have  seen  Peale's  fine  moral  picture  of  the 
Court  of  Death  could  readily  imagine  Grace,  with  her 
perfect  symmetry  of  feature,  and  transparent  fairness  of 
complexion,  personified  in  the  figure  of  Virtue  guiding 
the  feeble  step  of  Age ;  and  had  the  expression  of 
Pleasure  been  innocent  rather  than  voluptuous,  the 
dark-brown  hair,  brilliant  eyes,  and  glowing  cheek  of 
Gertrude,  might  well  have  been  mistaken  for  the  living, 
breathing  original  of  the  painting. 

A  rational  and  placid  smile  would  sometimes  play 
around  the  old  man's  lips,  as  he  looked  on  his  youthful 
nurses ;  and  his  spirit,  softened  and  bowed  down  within 
him,  would  pour  itself  forth  in  prayers  for  their  happi- 
ness. 

The  mind  is  a  noble  instrument.  Even  the  discord 
of  its  broken  keys  has  something  of  music  in  its  wild- 
ness ;  and  oftentimes,  when  it  seems  all  disordered  and 
defaced,  there  is  one  uninjured  string,  that  thrills  re- 
sponsive to  the  musician's  touch. 

The  ideal  forms  of  beauty  still  float,  in  all  their  cor- 
rectness of  outline,  before  the  painter's  eye ;  the  ear  of 
the  minstrel  is  still  tremblingly  alive  to  every  combina- 
tion of  sound ;  and  the  heart  that  has  been  bewildered 
by  sudden  bereavement  needs  but  a  glance,  or  a  tone,  like 


THE    REBELS.  201 

those  of  the  beloved  object,  to  recall,  in  a  connected 
series,  the  whole  detail  of  its  pleasures  and  its  pains. 
Thus  it  was  with  ]Mr.  Osborae.  The  latent  divinity, 
which  had  so  long  been  shrouded  in  darkness,  gleamed 
only  in  the  avenues  of  pietj^;  and  the  frequency  of 
prayer,  mixed  with  the  consolations  of  Scripture,  by 
degrees,  scattered- the  clouds  that  obscured  its  brightness. 

Business  had  recalled  Henr}',  at  the  end  of  a  few 
weeks ;  but  Grace  and  her  father,  at  the  urgent  entreaty 
of  their  friends,  remained  in  Canada  until  the  spring  of 
176S. 

Henr}^'s  letters,  during  this  time,  were  once  or  twice 
accompanied  by  packages  from  England.  In  these 
epistles,  Lucretia  made  no  further  complaints  of  "  mag- 
nificent fcrmalit}' ; "  on  the  contrary-,  her  expressions 
were  those  of  "  a  heart  reeling  with  its  fulness ;"  and 
poor,  deserted  Grace  felt  them  enter  into  her  soul,  like 
sharpened  steel.  These  feelings  were  the  harder  to  be 
borne,  because  no  one  s}'mpathized  with  them ;  for  what 
timidity  and  a  fear  of  disapprobation  had  at  first  con- 
cealed, pride  would  not  now  suffer  her  to  reveal.  Ger- 
trude did,  indeed,  notice,  that  too  close  attendance  on  a 
sick  bed  had  sunk  her  cheek,  and  dimmed  her  eye ;  and 
she  affectionately  remonstrated  with  her  on  the  danger 
she  was  incurring.  ^<It.  Percival,  at  the  suggestion  of 
his  wife,  made  a  slight  allusion  to  her  ill  health,  in  one 
of  his  letters  to  Henr}',  which  immediately  brought  the 
affectionate  brother  to  her  side.  Grace  denied  that  she 
had  been  ill ;  and  so  much  was  she  enlivened  by  Henr\'s 
unexpected  presence,  that  her  assertion  was  not  difficult 
to  be  believed. 

Another  pleasant  disappointment  awaited  his  arrival. 


202  THE    REBELS. 

His  father  had  enjoyed  two  months  of  uninterrupted 
rationality;  and  now  talked  of  England  and  taxation 
with  calmness  and  consistency. 

When  his  son  congratulated  him  on  his  recover}'',  he 
replied  :  "  I  was  too  anxious  to  work  out  our  deliverance 
by  human  wisdom  —  I  did  not  place  my  trust  in  Him 
who  holdeth  the  nations  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand.  Let 
my  chastisement  teach  us  humility." 

"  And  now,  as  soon  as  the  roads  are  sutiiciently  settled, 
I  suppose  3'ou  will  be  ready  to  go  home,  and  tell  of  the 
good  effects  of  a  Canadian  winter  ?  "  said  Grace. 

"  Never  speak  of  home,"  said  Mrs.  Percival ;  "  you 
have  almost  taught  us  to  be  unable  to  live  without  you." 

"  Yes,  our  hearts,  as  well  as  our  habitation,  are  large 
enough  for  j'ou  all,"  added  her  husband.  "  Your  health 
is  too  slender  to  continue  your  pastoral  duties,  and 
young  men  like  your  son  are  needed  in  the  Canadas." 

"  But  more  needed  in  New  Endand,"  answered  Mr. 
Osborne.  "  We  must  not  suffer  the  prospect  of  wealth 
or  ease  to  seduce  us  from  the  standard  of  truth  and 
liberty.  Besides,  my  friends,  we  are  already  under 
obligations  which  money  can  never  repay,  had  I  millions 
to  offer  you." 

"  We,  too,  have  had  our  obligations,"  said  Gertrude ; 
and  she  sio-hed  when  she  thouo-ht  of  the  death-bed  of 
her  father ;  —  "  but,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  crave  still  more 
from  you.  If  Grace  would  but  remain  a  year  with  me, 
it  would  add  very  much  to  my  happiness." 

"  She  may  do  as  she  pleases,"  said  the  father,  at 
the  same  time  looking  very  sorrowful. 

"  I  would  do  anything  to  evince  my  gratitude  to  you, 
Mrs.  Percival,"  said  Grace;  "but  I  cannot   leave  my 


THE    REBELS.  203 

only  parent ;  and,  truly,  never  did  a  home-sick  child  so 
lonfT  for  a  mother's  smile  as  I  do  to  see  Boston." 

"  Lucretia  wiU  be  there  soon,  I  suppose,"  obsen-ed 
Mrs.  Percival ;  "  and  her  claims  are,  of  course,  prior  to 
mine." 

"  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  I  had  a  letter  from  Doctor 
Willard,  this  morning,"  said  Henr)^  "  He  mentions  that 
two  regiments  of  royal  troops  are  about  to  sail  for  Amer- 
ica; and  that  Captain  Somer\-ille  is  one  of  the  com- 
manders. He  likewise  wrote  that  it  was  rumored  he 
would  be  married  before  he  sailed." 

Grace  looked  deadly  pale,  but  dared  not  trust  her- 
self to  ask  a  question. 

"  To  whom  ?  "  inquired  Mrs.  Percival. 

"  To  Miss  Fitzherbert,"  replied  the  younger  Osborne. 
"  Yery  probably,  however,  it  is  a  mere  report,  founded 
on  the  circumstance  of  their  going  out  to  England  to- 
gether. But  really,  dear  Grace,  you  cannot  conceal 
from  me  that  you  are  ill,  very  ill." 

His  father  gaA'e  him  a  look  of  much  meaning.  It  said, 
as  plainly  as  looks  could  say  it,  "  That  fatal  delusion  is 
strong  as  ever;  "  and  Grace,  perceiving  herself  the  object 
of  distressed  attention,  kindly  replied  to  their  inquiries, 
and  retired  to  her  own  chamber. 

"  Is  it  not  xerj  strange,"  said  Mr.  Osborne,  "  that 
Captain  Somer\'ille  has  not  fulfilled  his  promise  of 
writing  to  you  ?" 

"  Not  at  all  strange,"  replied  Henr}\  "  Ambition  is 
the  only  steady  principle  that  guides  his  course.  In  all 
things  else,  he  is  as  volatile  and  changeable  as  the  wind. 
My  acquaintance  was  a  pleasant  recreation  to  him,  while 
in  Boston,  no  doubt ;  but  of  what  consequence  is  the 


204  THE    REBELS. 

friendship  of  a  young  law^^er,  who  has  neither  weahh 
nor  patronage  to  offer  him  ?  " 

"  You  judge  more  harshly  than  usual,"  said  Percival. 

"  I  speak  my  cool,  unbiased  opinion,"  rejoined  Henry. 
"  I  always  admired  his  talents,  but  I  never  respected  his 
character ;  and  I  was  always  aware  that  our  acquahit- 
ance  was  of  that  bright,  meteor-like  kind,  that  often 
happens  between  people  of  no  real  congeniality." 

•'  And  what  do  you  think  of  this  rumor  about  royal 
troops  ?  "  inquired  Percival. 

"It  is  W'hat  I  have  long  expected.  And  I  think  they 
vj'iW  soon  be  recalled,  —  else  few  will  live  to  carry  back 
a  description  of  New  England." 

"I  believe  you  most  heartily,"  rejoined  Percival;  "and 
the  God  who  has  kindled  such  a  flame  in  the  breast  of 
two  millions  of  freemen  has  surely  ordained  that  the 
rebels  shall  be  free." 

"  And  we  ought  to  be  on  the  spot,  my  son,"  said  Mr. 
Osborne.  "  Boston  will  soon  need  all  the  strength  and 
wisdom  of  her  children." 

"  Next  week,  if  you  please,  sir,"  replied  Henry. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Percival  w^armly  contended  that  it  w'as 
too  soon ;  that  the  roads  were  bad ;  that  Grace  was  not 
strong  enough  to  endure  the  fatigue ;  and  that  they  could 
not  yet  part  with  them.  Grace,  however,  exerted  her- 
self to  appear  in  good  health  and  spirits,  —  the  spring 
was  unusually  favorable  for  travelling,  —  and,  on  the 
first  w^eek  in  May,  they  departed  for  Boston,  where 
they  soon  after  arrived,  in  health  and  safety. 


CHAPTER    XVil. 

Alas !  the  tale  is  quickly  told  — 

His  love  hath  felt  the  curse  of  gold  ! 

And  he  is  bartering  his  heart 

For  that  in  which  it  hath  no  part. 

There  's  many  an  ill  that  clings  to  love  ; 

But  this  is  one  all  else  above  ;  — 

For  love  to  bow  before  the  name 

Of  this  world's  treasure  :  shame  !  oh,  shame  I 

The  Improvisatrice. 

to  xiss  grace  osborne. 
"  Dear  Grace  : 

"  How  very  seldom  you  write ;  and  how  woe-begone 
are  your  epistles  I  Do  not  think  me  heartless,  Tvdth  re- 
gard to  your  father's  sickness.  Indeed,  I  have  felt  most 
keenly  for  you  and  for  him ;  but  I  have  not  the  least 
doubt  that  the  fine,  clear  climate  of  Canada  will  restore 
him ;  and  even  if  the  event  should  be  the  woi^t  that  we 
can  fear,  you  must  not  thus  mourn  away  your  young 
existence.  When  you  wrote  last,  you  were  just  on  the 
point  of  starting  for  Montreal ;  and  I  assure  you  I  envied 
you  the  excursion.  I  wish  I  could  have  visited  Gertrude 
before  I  came  to  England.  Not  only  because  I  loved 
her  more  than  I  ever  loved  any  one  in  so  short  a  time ; 
but  I  am  really  ashamed,  when  asked  about  Niagara 
and  the  lakes,  to  say  that  I  have  never  seen  them. 
People  here  are  not  aware  how  very  unusual  it  is  for 
American  ladies  to  go  out  of  sight  of  their  own  chimneys; 
and,  as  for  ?pacc,  they  do  not  seem  to  imagine  there  is 

IS 


206  THE    REBELS. 

such  a  tiling  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic.  They 
would  ask  a  Vermontese  about  the  Blue  Ridge,  or  a 
Georgian  about  Niagara,  as  readily  as  I  should  question 
a  Londoner  about  St.  Paul's,  or  beg  a  description  of 
Snowdon  from  a  Welchman  born  and  bred  within  sight 
of  its  cloud-kissing  peak. 

During  the  whole  of  last  winter,  we  had  the  finest  col- 
lection of  company  in  the  world.  Johnson,  Burke,  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds,  Garrick,  and  Goldsmith,  spent  an 
evening  with  us,  almost  as  regularly  as  they  did  at  the 
Turk's  Head,  Gerard-street,  Soho.  The  mere  contact 
of  such  great  minds  is  enough  to  inspire  one  with  genius. 
I  have  the  good  fortune  to  be  a  favorite  with  that  famous 
cynic,  Samuel  Johnson;  — principally,  I  believe,  because 
I  treat  him  with  the  most  profound  reverence,  and  never 
contradict  his  opinions.  To  Sir  Joshua,  I  could  listen 
forever,  because  he  talks  of  what  I  understand  and  love. 
He  has  described  half  the  fine  paintings  in  Italy  so  viv- 
idly, that  I  imagine  I  have  seen  them.  Burke  is  becom- 
ing famous  as  a  speaker ;  and  if  he  is  half  as  delightful 
in  Parliament  as  he  is  in  the  drawing-room,  I  do  not 
wonder  at  his  fame.  '  His  talk,'  says  Johnson,  '  is  the 
ebullition  of  his  mind ;  he  does  not  talk  from  a  desire  of 
distinction,  but  because  his  mind  is  full.'  It  would 
amuse  Henry  to  hear  the  political  disputes  between  these 
two  great  men.  Johnson  sneers  about  '  whig  dogs,' 
speaks  of  America  as  an  uncivilized  land,  and  says  it 
would  puzzle  any  one  to  tell  what  good  the  discovery  of 
it  has  done  the  world.  Burke  contends  that  our  country 
will  eventually  be  one  of  the  greatest  on  the  globe  ;  and 
says  that  if  Britain  ever  loses  her  American  colonies,  she 
will  part  with  a  jewel  worth  her  whole  regalia.     It  is 


THE    REBELS.  207 

curious  to  observe  how  sharp  contention  will  call  forth 
passions,  which  we  little  folks  can  hardly  imagine  to 
exist  in  such  mighty  minds.  These  great  men  remind 
me  of  Alfred's  horse,  cut  in  the  side  of  a  chalk  hill,  in 
Berkshire.  At  a  distance,  it  looks  like  a  fine  warlike 
steed  ;  but,  as  you  approach  it,  all  its  fine  proportions  are 
lost,  and  at  last  you  begin  to  doubt  whether  it  be  really 
an  animal,  or  merely  a  surface  accidentally  indented  by 
wind  and  storm.  Among  all  the  geniuses  to  whom  I 
have  been  introduced.  Goldsmith  is  my  favorite.  -He 
loves  a  broad  laugh,  but  never  a  malicious  one ;  and  his 
constant  flow  of  humor  originates  in  fulness — not  in 
vacuity. 

"We  shall  soon  return  to  the  city.  I  must  say  I 
regret  to  leave  our  country-seat;  for,  thickly  as  this 
beautiful  island  is  gemmed  with  mansions  and  parks,  cot- 
tages and  gardens,  it  can  boast  few  spots  so  cultivated 
and  so  varied.  The  Thames  sparkles  before  it,  like  a 
broad,  bright  line  of  silver,  on  the  green  robe  of  summer. 
In  the  distance  are  seen  the  verdant  hills  of  Kent  and 
Surrey,  around  w^hose  majestic  brows  the  setting  sun 
daily  twines  his  topaz  coronet  of  hght.  In  every  direc- 
tion the  foliage  is  delightfully  interspersed  with  majestic 
domes,  venerable  turrets,  and  light,  airy,  graceful  spires. 
Boats,  of  all  sizes  and  descriptions,  from  the  eight-oared 
barge  to  the  slender  skiff",  are  gliding  up  and  down  the 
river,  like  a  troop  of  wild  swans  on  the  Potomac,  giving 
life  and  motion  to  its  slumbering  beauty. 

"  Within  doors,  I  can  feast  my  eye  on  a  fine  galler)'- 
of  paintings.  Here  are  the  pictures  of  Rembrandt, 
steeped  in  sunshine  ;  the  gods  and  goddesses  of  Guido 
—  more  like  the  seraphs  of  a  Christian  heaven,  than  the 


208  THE    REBELS. 

deities  of  Olympus;  and  the  sublime  productions  of 
Raphael,  beaming  with  an  expression  of  soul  which  his 
pencil  alone  could  giv'e.  But  there  is  one  picture  here 
that  seems  to  me  like  dreaming  of  a  distant  friend  — 
troubling  while  it  pleases  me.  It  is  among  the  family 
portraits  which  decorate  my  bed-chamber ;  and  was 
taken,  I  am  told,  for  my  grandmother  Fitzherbert.  It 
is  Gertrude  Percival,  to  the  life !  The  same  high,  intel- 
lectual forehead;  the  same  Aurora  freshness  of  com- 
plexion ;  the  same  majestic  contour  of  neck  and  shoul- 
ders. I  do  not  know  how  they  would  compare  together  ; 
but  I  thought  the  likeness  so  striking,  that  I  have  em- 
ployed Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  to  make  me  a  copy  to  bring 
to  America.  What  associations  that  name  awakens  I 
How  much  the  very  sound  makes  my  heart  leap  toward 
you  !  Yet  my  affections  cling  to  good  old  England.  I 
love  her  country  scenes,  embosomed  in  forests,  and  gar- 
landed with  flowers ;  I  love  the  rapid  pulsation  of  her 
mighty  capital ;  I  love  to  gaze  on  her  far-stretching  gal- 
axy of  genius ;  and, '  last,  not  least,'  I  love  the  bravery, 
frankness  and  hospitality,  of  her  sons. 

"  One  other  association  knocks  at  my  heart,  dearer 
than  all  that  taste  or  reason  can  furnish.  It  was  here  I 
first  heard  declarations  of  love  from  the  only  man  I  ever 
wished  to  please.  There  was  a  time  when  you  indulged 
yourself  in  a  little  gentle  raillery  about  my  sliding  heart; 
and  why,  dear  Grace,  did  you  cease  to  be  unreserved  on 
the  subject  ?  I  once  supposed  that  Captain  Somerville 
had  a  powerfvd  advocate  in  your  own  feelings.  Was  it 
so  ?  and  did  you  reject  him  from  the  dictates  of  judg- 
ment ?  Or  are  you  still  a  stranger  to  that  mj'sterious 
affinity  which  draws  two  young  souls  toward  each  other? 


THE    REBELS.  209 

Perhaps  timidity  was  the  only  enemy  our  patriotic  young 
friend  had  to  contend  with ;  and,  after  all  that  is  past 
and  gone,  Mrs.  Willard  may  stand  ready  to  greet  Mrs. 
Somerville,  on  her  return  to  America.  I  forgot,  when  I 
said  Mrs.  Somerville,  —  for  uncle  will  not  consent  to  our 
marriage,  unless  the  captain  will  take  my  family  name ; 
and  he  is  now  going  through  the  necessary  forms  for 
that  purpose.  I  wish  you  could  have  a  share  in  the  cer- 
emony that  gives  me  a  hand  invaluable  to  my  heart, 
though  it  proved  unacceptable  to  yours. 

"  When  you  write  again,  I  trust  your  father  will  be 
quite  recovered.  You  do  not  know  how  grateful  I  am 
for  the  kind  wishes  he  always  sends  me.  Kiss  his  ven- 
erable forehead,  and  tell  him  that,  to  such  a  generous 
creditor,  I  shall  never  be  a  bankrupt  in  affection.  I 
thought  happiness  had  dried  up  the  fountain  of  my 
tears ;  but  your  last  letter  was  so  sad,  that  I  wept,  in 
spite  of  myself. 

"  Ever  yours,  with  all  the  intense  affection  1  am  capa- 
ble of  feeling,  Lucretia  Fitzherbert." 

Fitzherbert  Hall,  Nov.  13,  17G7. 

TO    Miss    LUCRETIA    FITZHERBERT. 

"  Dear  Lucretia  : 

"  I  found  your  letter,  dated  November  15th,  waiting 
our  arrival,  when  we  returned  from  Canada.  Gertrude 
and  I  wrote  you  a  crowded  epistle,  last  autum.n ;  I  won- 
der you  "had  not  received  it  before  you  wrote.  She  is 
very  happy.  Indeed,  her  affectionate  heart  deserves  it. 
Had  she  been  a  sister,  in  very  truth,  she  could  not  have 
loved  me  more,  or  been  more  kindly  attentive  to  my 
father. 


210  TITF.    RF.BELS. 

I  have  heard  you  speak  of  people  in  whom  delicacy 
and  refinement  seemed  like  instinct.  Mrs.  Percival's 
certainly  is  so.  She  perceived  that  images  and  pictures 
of  the  saints  distressed  my  good  father  (his  soul  you 
know  entereth  not  into  their  strange  worship)  — nothing 
was  said  ;  but  the  morning  after  our  arrival,  I  noticed 
they  had  all  disappeared.  I  cannot  tell  such  fine  stories 
about  my  Canadian  excursion,  as  you  tell  of  England.  I 
was  ever  seated  at  my  father's  bed-side,  or  supporting 
his  arm  as  he  walked.  You  will  think  this  was  weari- 
some ;  but  I  assure  you  it  is  like  cordial  to  the  spirit,  to 
meet  afTection  in  the  languid  eye  of  sickness,  and  to  see 
blessings  and  thanks  quiver  on  lips  that  have  not  strength 
to  utter  them.  Truly,  I  would  not  have  exchanged  my 
solitary  task  for  all  the  treasures  of  Burke's  eloquence,  or 
Goldsmith's  wit.  Your  speaking  of  pictures,  reminds 
me  of  a  Magdalen,  which  an  Italian  artist  painted  for 
Mrs.  Percival.  It  would  doubtless  appear  mean  to  your 
practised  eye  ;  but  it  found  its  way  to  my  heart.  The 
countenance  is  pale  and  melancholy  —  like  one  who  has 
loved,  and  been  forsaken  —  one  who  has  ear]y  learned 
that  the  flowers  of  earth  wither  away;  but  there  is 
devotion  in  the  uplifted  eye,  which  speaks  of  better 
hopes  than  this  vain  world  can  offer.  So  purely  did  it 
breathe  of  celestial  joys,  that  my  spirit  fluttered  like  a 
captive  bird ;  and  I  would  fain  have  gone  away  and 
slept  the  last  quiet  sleep. 

"  My  father  is  recovering  fast.  A  gentle  light  beams 
from  his  eye,  and  his  step  is  firm  even  as  it  was  wont  to 
be,  when  you  and  I  and  all  of  us  were  happy  together. 

"  Long,  long,  Lucretia,  may  you  enjoy  the  scenes  you 
love  so  well,  and   the   society  you   so  well  know  how  to 


THE    REBELS.  211 

adorn.  I  am  often  selfish  enough  to  wish  you  were  here. 
However,  the  luxuriance  of  the  park  and  the  green-house 
must  be  yours ;  —  enough  for  me,  the  trembling  little 
wild-flower  that  breathes  its  fragrance  at  my  feet.  Bless- 
ings on  its  innocent  beauty !  It  smiles  through  a  deli- 
cious existence,  and, at  the  end  of  one  brief  season,  droops 
its  dying  head  on  the  bosom  of  the  turf  that  nourished  it. 
Why  should  we  envy  them  ?  Are  not  mortals  as  fragile 
as  they  ?  I  love  flowers.  They  speak  of  nature,  and 
they  speak  of  God.  I  would  rather  have  them  cluster 
around  my  grave,  and  moisten  it  with  the  dew-drop  of 
morning  and  evening,  than  to  repose  beneath  the  cold, 
heavy  monuments  of  Westminster  Abbey. 

"  3.1ay  you  ever  be  happy,  dear  Lucretia  ;  — particu- 
larly may  3'ou  be  fortunate  in  that  important  step  —  the 
only  one,  save  death,  which  can  never  be  retraced. 
Your  allusion  to  Doctor  Willard  was  very  painful  to  me. 
My  heart  is  not  cold  and  unfeeling  —  perhaps  it  has 
thought  on  domestic  happiness  too  deeply  —  too  fondl)'' ; 
but  the  day-dream  has  vanished. 

"My  kind  remembrance  to  your  intended  husband. 

"  The  blessing  of  Israel's  God  be  with  you. 

"  Your  affectionate, 

"Grace  Osborxe." 
Queen-street,  June  30,  1768. 

to  miss  sally  sandford. 
"  Dear  Auxt  : 

"  I  last   week  received  a  package  from  Boston,  con 
taining  letters  from  Uncle   Hutchinson,  Grace  Osborne, 
and  yourself. 

"  Many  thanks  for  your  bridal  sash.     I  shall  most  cer- 


212  THE    REBELS, 

fainly  wear  it  at  the  important  time  for  which  it  was 
designed. 

"  Captain  Somerville  now  writes  his  name  Frederic 
Somerville  Fitzherbert.  I  was  sorr}^  uncle's  family  pride 
required  this  sacrifice.  There  seems  to  be  something 
degrading  in  the  bridegroom's  losing  his  name,  instead 
of  the  bride.  However,  he  seems  resolved  to  repay  this 
acquiescence  by  the  most  rapid  promotion.  He  is  now 
colonel  of  his  majesty's  14th  regiment  of  dragoons.  I 
have  repeatedly  told  you  that  uncle  is  one  of  the  most 
formal,  precise  men  in  the  world.  You  would  have  been 
amused  with  his  reception  of  Captain  Somerville,  the 
day  he  came  to  make  proposals  in  due  form.  It  was  at 
an  hour  when  he  did  not  usually  receive  visitors.  Mrs. 
Edgarton  had  just  placed  the  bolster  of  the  couch  so  that 
he  could  recline  comfortably;  and  I,  like  a  dutiful  niece, 
stood  ready  to  read  the  newspaper,  which  had  just  been 
brought  in,  when  the  servant  entered,  and,  making  a 
low  bow,  said,  '  Captain  Somerville  is  in  the  library, 
wishing  to  speak  with  your  honor.' 

"  '  Show  him  up,  John.' 

"'He  wishes  to  speak  with  3'ou  alone,  if  it  pleases 
you.' 

"  I  guessed  his  errand,  —  for  I  had  heard  some  intima- 
tion of  it,  in  the  picture-gallery,  the  day  before.  My 
uncle  seemed  to  suspect,  too ;  for  he  chucked  me  under 
the  chin,  as  he  rose,  and  said,  '  These  nieces  are  dear 
creatures  to  an  old,  ease-lovino;  man.' 

"  Captain  Somerville  afterwards  told  me  that  when  he 
entered  the  library,  he  made  one  of  his  most  stately  bows, 
and  inquired,  '  What  is  your  business,  sir  ? ' 


THE    REBELS.  213 

"  '  I  came  to  speak  of  your  niece,  —  and  to  ask  per- 
mission —  ' 

" '  To-morrow,  at  four  o'clock,  post  meridian,  I  will 
give  you  an  audience,  sir.  You  are  aware  this  is  not 
my  hour  of  business ;'  —  and,  with  another  haughty 
inclination  of  the  head,  he  left  him  to  his  meditations. 

"  Captain  Somerville,  somewhat  daunted  by  his  repul- 
sive manner,  came  at  the  appointed  time.  Without 
answering  his  salutation,  or  even  requesting  him  to  be 
seated,  uncle  said,  in  a  hurried,  business  tone,  *  Are  you 
willing  to  take  the  name  and  arms  of  Fitzherbert  ? ' 

"  After  a  moment's  hesitation,  Somerville  replied  in 
the  affirmative.  '  Follow  me,  then,'  said  he ;  and  he  led 
the  way  to  the  galler}'',  where  I  was  seated,  copying  a 
Flemish  landscape.  He  threw  the  door  open,  with  an 
air  of  great  importance,  pointed  to  a  vacant  seat,  and 
said,  '  Whatever  3'ou  value  in  this  apartment,  is  yours.' 

"  If  my  uncle  had  mistaken  the  real  nature  of  his 
business,  it  vrould  have  been  very  embarrassing;  as  it 
was,  however,  there  was  no  mistake  about  the  matter. 

"  You  would  be  surprised  to  see  how  much  I  have 
improved  in  my  painting.  Somerville  is  a  great  ama- 
teur, you  know;  and  there  is  no  exertion  too  great  for  a 
woman  who  loves.  I  have  actually  improved  more, 
within  the  last  three  months,  than  I  ever  did  in  my 
whole  life. 

"  Uncle  Fitzherbert  is  evidently  much  pleased  with 
my  approaching  marriage  ;  and  from  Uncle  Hutchinson's 
letter,  I  should  judge  he  was  well-nigh  mad  with  joy. 

"  I  do  not  exactly  know  'why  it  is,  —  but  I  do  wish 
the  weddinor  could  be  deferred  until  I  have  visited 
America.      ]\Iy  friends  here  will  not  consent  to  it,  I 


214  THE    liEBELS. 

know;  especially  as  I  should  find  it  difficult  to  give 
them  any  very  good  reasons  for  it.  If  I  must  tell  the 
truth,  I  have  certain  undefined  apprehensions  about 
Grace  Osborne.  She  seldom  mentions  Captain  Somer- 
ville  in  her  letters  —  which  is  very  strange,  considering 
how  much  he  was  with  us,  in  the  winter  of  '65,  and 
how  obviously  she  was  a  favorite.  Once,  indeed,  she 
requested  me  to  tell  him  that  the  rose-bush  he  had 
given  her  was  flourishing.  "When  I  mentioned  it,  one 
of  those  dreadful  shadows  passed  over  his  face,  and  the 
blood  seemed  starting  from  his  temples.  '  Tell  Miss 
Osborne,'  said  he,  '  that  no  flower  can  be  fairer  than 
herself.'  These  circumstances  brought  to  my  recollec- 
tion, that  when  we  parted,  there  were  certain  very 
expressive  glances  about  a  broken  ring,  which  I  had 
never  seen  before.  As  Captain  Somerville  had  then 
treated  me  with  nothing  more  than  gallantry  and  polite- 
ness, I  was  confirmed  in  my  supposition  that  they  were 
betrothed  to  each  other. 

"  After  our  engagement,  I  once  ventured  to  say  to 
him,  that  I  had  thought  him  very  much  fascinated  by  a 
certain  friend  of  mine  in  Boston.  That  darkening 
frown,  always  so  terrible  to  me,  again  came  over  his 
face.  '  She  is  a  most  beautiful  creature,'  said  he ;  '  and 
you  will  forgive  me,  Lucretia,  if  I  did  love  her,  since 
she  did  not  consider  my  love  worth  her  acceptance.  I 
have  long  ceased  to  regret  it ;  for  I  am  convinced  she 
has  not  mind  enough  to  make  me  happy.'  I  began  to 
vindicate  Grace,  —  but  he  interrupted  me,  with  an  ear- 
nest, almost  authoritative  request,  never  to  mention  the 
subject  to  him  again.  This  interdiction  might  originate 
in  wounded  pride.     But  why  was  the  rose  kept  ?     From 


THE    REBELS.  215 

whence  came  the  ring?  During  the  winter  he  spent 
with  us,  m}"  own  heart  taught  me  how  to  judge  of 
another;  and  I  would  then  have  risked  my  Hfe  that 
Grace  loved  him  with  all  the  pure,  deep  tenderness  of 
which  she  is  capable.  Her  letters  seem  to  come  from  a 
wear}^  and  broken  spirit ;  and  she  dwells  upon  the  peace- 
fulness  of  the  grave  with  a  sort  of  sickening  impatience 
very  remarkable  in  one  so  contented  and  devotional.  If 
my  rank  and  wealth  have  purchased  me  his  hand,  while 
his  affections  are  lingering  in  America,  mine  will  indeed 
be  splendid  miser}'. 

*'  I  loved  Grace  at  that  early  age  when  the  soul  sends 
forth  its  waters  in  warm  and  gushing  torrents.  I  have 
seen  her  the  idol  of  every  circle,  while  I,  poor  and 
homely,  was  neglected.  I  have  seen  Love  pass  by  me, 
and  shower  his  wreaths  am.ong  her  beautiful  flaxen  hair  ; 
but  she  never  was  the  less  dear  to  me ;  and  if  I  now 
supposed  that  her  breaking  heart  was  a  stepping-stone  to 
H^Tnen's  altar,  my  o'\mi  would  burst,  ere  I  trod  upon  it. 
In  your  last  letter,  you  sneered  at  the  possibility  of  her 
having  refused  such  a  match ;  —  but  you  do  not  know 
her,  Aunt  Sandford.  I  never  saw  one  who  had  such 
power  to  curb  and  to  endure.  If  she  doubted  the  firm- 
ness of  a  man's  principles,  or  feared  her  father's  disap- 
probation, she  could  tear  an  image  from  her  heart,  if 
ever)'-  fibre  bled  at  the  parting. 

"  However,  in  one  fortnight  I  shall  be  a  wedded  wife ; 
and  I  ought  not  to  indulge  an}'  doubtings  and  misgiv- 
ings; for  I  never  had  reason  to  doubt  Colonel  Fitzher- 
bert's  integrit}'.  (It  is  the  first  time  I  have  thought  to 
give  him  his  new  title.) 

"  I  have  introduced  all  my  acquaintance,  in  town  and 


216  THE    REBELS. 

country  to  you,  I  believe  —  unless  Miss  Anne  Pitt  be 
excepted,  whom  I  have  not  met  till  very  recently. 
She  is  the  sister  of  Lord  Chatham,  and  almost  as  cele- 
brated as  he  is.  j\Ir.  Burke  told  me  he  thoudit  her  the 
most  perfectly  eloquent  person  he  ever  saw.  There  is, 
indeed,  a  charm  in  everj'thing  she  says.  Her  ideas 
have  great  beauty;  and  she  mingles  her  syllables  in  a 
liquid  cadence,  w^hich  gives  to  the  English  tongue  the 
far-famed  softness  of  the  Tuscan. 

"Last  Sabbath,  I  went  to  Stepney  old  church,  St. 
Dunstan,  —  a  pile  venerable  for  its  extreme  antiquity. 
An  inscription  on  one  of  the  corner-stones  imports  that 
it  was  brought  from  the  ruins  of  Carthage.  Colonel 
Fitzherbert  laughed  at  me  for  paying  court  to  St.  Dun- 
stan just  at  this  time.  You  know  he  consecrated  a 
fountain,  which  ever  after  had  the  blessed  effect  of  mak- 
ing wives  obedient.  The  servant  has  just  come  up  to 
say  that  Sir  Joshua  Eeynolds  and  Garrick  are  below. 
I  may  thank  you  and  Uncle  Hutchinson  that  I  am  not  a 
disgrace  to  the  society  in  which  fortune  has  placed  me. 
Good-night.  August  14th  —  the  anniversary  of  Oliver's 
mob,  —  and  of  something  far  more  important  —  viz.,  of 
the  evening  on  which  I  was  introduced  to  Captain 
Somerville. 

"August  2ith,  1768. 
*'  How  mutable  are  all  human  prospects !  My  last 
lines  were  written  on  the  14th ;  and  Uncle  Fitzherbert 
was  then  in  fine  health,  and  animated  to  a  remarkable 
degree.  On  the  night  of  the  15th,  he  was  suddenly 
attacked  by  violent  convulsions.  The  fits  continued, 
with  increasing  power,  until  the  third  day,  when,  with 
anguish  that  cannot  be  described,  I  saw  the  only  relative 


THE    REBELS  217 

I  had  on  earth  stretched  on  the  bed  of  death.  I  have 
never  before  seen  Mrs.  Edgarton  subdued  by  emotion; 
but  now  I  am  obhged  to  exert  all  my  fortitude  to  support 
her.  Alas  !  I  shall  never  again  be  idolized  as  I  was  by 
that  dear  old  gentleman.  He  seemed  to  consider  me 
the  prop  of  his  house  —  the  stay  and  support  of  his  age. 
Why  did  my  heart  ever  accuse  him  of  coldness  and 
formality  ? 

"  Colonel  Fitzherbert  ^^Tote  all  the  particulars  of  his 
death  to  Uncle  Hutchinson,  immediately  after  his 
decease ;  but  grief,  and  the  pressure  of  cares  to  which  I 
have  been  unaccustomed,  have  hitherto  prevented  my 
writing  to  you.  Mrs.  Edgarton  has  £5000 ;  and  all  the 
ser\'ants  have  legacies.  To  everj^thing  else  I  am  sole 
heiress. 

*'  All  preparations  for  the  wedding  are,  of  course, 
delayed.  It  was  the  earnest  request,  indeed  the  com- 
mand, of  my  dying  uncle,  that  the  marriage  should  be 
solemnized  in  three  or  four  weeks,  at  the  utmost. 

"I  thought  this  arrangement  very  heartless  and 
unfeeling.  I  therefore  told  Colonel  Fitzherbert  that  I 
thought  it  best  to  go  to  America,  with  several  ladies  of 
my  acquaintance,  who  sail  in  September ;  and  added  my 
resolution  to  be  married  at  the  house  where  we  first 
met. 

"  At  first,  he  urged  me,  with  all  possible  eagerness,  to 
comply  with  my  uncle's  request ;  then  offered  to  throw 
up  his  commission,  and  remain  in  England  until  the 
period  of  mourning  had  expired;  and  when  he  found 
that  I  continued  firm  in  my  purpose,  he  flew  into  the 
most  violent  rage,  and  said  he  should  not  consider  the 
engagement  binding,  if  1  chose  to  display  my  obstinacy 

19 


218  THE    REBELS. 

in  this  way,     I  answered,  it  was  very  well.     He  was 
left  entirely  to  his  own  choice,  in  that  matter. 

"  He  went  away  in  great  anger.  The  next  day,  how- 
ever, he  called  to  apologize,  and  to  express  his  reluctant 
acquiescence.  I  had  rather  die  than  doubt  him ;  but  all 
this  powerful  emotion  does  increase  my  suspicions, — 
and  yet  they  do  not  amount  to  suspicions,  either. 

"  You  will  be  displeased,  I  know ;  but  I  must.  Aunt 
Sandford,  I  must  have  confidence  in  the  man  I  marry. 
I  merely  wish  to  see  Grace,  and  satisfy  m.y  doubts. 
Doubts,  do^I  say  ?  I  will  not  suffer  myself  to  doubt  the 
word  of  Colonel  Fitzherbert;  and  if,  as  I  believe,  no 
blame  can  be  attached  to  him,  I  assure  you  I  love  him 
too  well  to  require  from  him  any  romantic  sacrifice. 
You  have  often  wished  to  be  present  at  my  wedding ;  — 
I  trust  you  will  not  be  angry  if  your  wish  is  gratified. 

"  Give  my  grateful,  fervent  affection  to  Uncle  Hutch- 
inson. I  have  been  collecting  a  library  more  splendid 
than  the  one  destroyed  by  the  mob,  which  I  intend  to 
bring  with  me. 

"  Most  affectionately,  your  dutiful  niece, 

"  LucRETiA  Fitzherbert." 

Miss  Sandford  scarcely  read  the  concluding  line, 
before  she  dipped  her  pen  in  ink,  and  rapidly  scribbled 
as  follows :  — 

to  miss  lucretia  fitzherbert. 
"  Silly  Girl  : 

"  I  am,  indeed,  angry  with  you.  In  my  day,  a  child 
of  six  years  old  would  have  been  whipped,  and  sent  to 
bed,  for  taking  such  foolish  whims.     Is  a  man  of  Colo- 


THE    REBELS.  219 

nel  Fitzherbert's  rank  and  talents,  and  the  nephew  of 
your  greatest  benefactor,  to  be  treated  in  this  unbecom- 
ing manner,  because  a  simpleton  of  eighteen  chooses  to 
talk  about  dying,  as  if  it  was  a  matter  of  pleasure  or 
convenience  ?  I  suppose  brother  Henry  had  scolded 
her,  or  papa  had  frowned  on  the  trembling  little  one. 
As  for  the  ring  and  the  flower,  they  weigh  nothing  at 
all,  in  my  mind.  If  girls  of  the  present  day  will  suffer 
a  gentleman  to  see  as  plain  as  daylight  that  they  are  liv- 
ing and  breathing  only  for  him,  what  can  you  expect 
from  human  vanity  ?  I  dare  say.  Colonel  Fitzherbert 
made  up  the  story  about  her  rejection,  wholly  from  mo- 
tives of  delicacy  and  generosity.  I  am  not  surprised 
that  he  was  in  a  passion,  when  he  found  you  refused  to 
obey  your  uncle's  dying  command. 

"  To  say  nothing  about  the  foolish  jealousy  you  in- 
dulge, are  you  not  ashamed  to  cross  the  seas  with  a 
regiment  of  soldiers  ?  In  the  days  of  my  youth,  a  single 
lady  would  have  thought  twice,  before  she  undertook 
anything  so  grossly  improper ;  but  blushes  are  out  of 
fashion,  now-a-days,  I  find. 

"  My  indignation  may  have  betrayed  me  into  unlady- 
like expressions ;  and,  perhaps,  it  may  have  made  me 
seem  very  indecorous,  with  regard  to  Mr.  Fitzherbert's 
death.  You,  no  doubt,  feel  his  loss  very  severely ;  and, 
under  other  circumstances,  a  year  ought  certainly  to  be 
given  to  his  memory ;  but  your  destined  husband  loves 
the  army  too  well  to  quit  it ;  he  is  ordered  to  America, 
and  you  are  anxious  to  accompany  him.  As  for  staying 
in  England,  unmarried,  at  the  head  of  such  a  large 
establishment,  it  would  neither  be  pleasant  nor  proper. 
To  be  sure,  you  have  no  thoughts  of  the   last  scheme. 


220  THE    REBELS. 

You  must,  forsooth,  see  Grace  Osborne,  and  ask  her  if 
she  is  willing  you  should  marry  her  old  favorite.  Such 
whims  might  pass,  in  a  girl  of  fifteen,  who  had  never 
read  anything  but  romances ;  but  for  one  of  your  good 
sense,  great  advantages,  and  uncommon  attainments,  it  is 
highly  ridiculous; — and  let  me  tell  you,  that  to  set 
your  judgment  against  your  elders,  in  this  way,  is  paying 
a  poor  compliment  to  those  who  brought  you  up.  Come 
to  America  as  Mrs.  Fitzherbert,  and  you  will  find  all 
hearts  open  to  receive  you. 

^^  !^  ^  dkit  ^ 

^  •TV'  'Tr  "TV"  Vt* 

"  There  is  no  chance  to  send  this  letter,  for  a  week  or 
more.  I  earnestly  hope  you  will  not  have  taken  any 
rash  step  before  you  hear  from  me.  I  mentioned,  in  my 
last,  that  your  portrait,  by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  had 
safely  arrived; — and  who  do  you  think  came,  a  few 
days  since,  and  craved  permission  to  see  it  ?  Assuredly, 
no  other  than  Molly  Bradstreet,  or  Polly  May,  as  she 
styles  herself.  She  marched  in,  with  a  very  unceremo- 
nious stride,  looked  earnestly  at  the  picture  for  a  few 
moments,  then  threw  herself  into  your  uncle's  chair,  and 
burst  into  tears,  moving  her  right  hand  up  and  down  all 
the  while,  as  if  beating  time  to  some  funeral  dirge. 

"  When  she  arose,  I  ventured  to  ask  her  what  interest 
she  took  in  that  yomig  person.  She  looked  at  me  very 
keenly  for  a  moment,  and  turned  away,  as  she  answered, 
'  I  knew  her  mother  in  Hahfax ;  and  she  did  me  many  a 
kind  turn,  while  she  (pointing  to  your  picture)  was  a 
baby.' 

"  She  would  neither  eat  nor  drink  in  the  house,  and 
hurried  out  of  it,  as  if  afraid  to  trust  herself  to  look  back. 
Mr.  Hutchinson  seemed  to  think  of  nothing  else  for  two 


TTIE    REBELS.  221 

or  three  da3'S  ;  and  he  finally  went  off  in  search  of  this 
mysterious  creature  ;  but  she  could  not  be  found. 

"  A  woman  who  lives  near  her  has  been  here  to  get 
work,  several  times ;  and  when  I  think  it  necessar}',  I 
employ  her  in  the  kitchen.  She  says,'  Some  take  Molly 
for  a  desput  bad  woman ;  howsomdever,  I  have  gone  into 
her  house  agin  and  agin,  and  found  her  on  her  knees  at 
prayer.  To  be  sure,  she  comes  and  goes  like  sulky 
soap:  and  she  is  a  sort  of  witch,  I  believe.  At  any  rate, 
she  has  a  kind  of  half-crazed  way  with  her.' 

"  You  would  have  laughed  one  of  your  heartiest 
laughs,  if  3'ou  had  been  here  last  week,  when  this  poor 
washerwoman  came  to  make  her  complaints  against  the 
whigs. 

"  *  Don't  you  think,  madam,'  said  she,  drawing  in  her 
breath,  with  violent  sobs,  '  don't  you  think,  they  have 
torn  the  nice  checked  apron  you  gin  me,  all  to  pieces  I ' 
Then,  turning  to  the  lieutenant  governor,  with  a  profound 
courtesy,  she  added,  '  If  there  's  justice  in  the  land,  it 
ought  to  reach  such  fellows,  your  honor.' 

We  asked  what  provocation  there  was  for  such  an 
injur}^  and  who  was  guilty  of  it.  '  Why,  you  see,  I 
took  a  few  pence  of  the  money  you  gin  me  for  my  labor,' 
said  she, '  and  I  went  to  Mr.  Loveking's  shop,  and  bought 
me  a  quarter  of  a  pound  of  nice  Bohea.  There  was  an 
evil-lookinof  lad  on  the  door-stone,  when  I  went  in  :  and 
I  noticed  he  followed  me,  and  kept  his  eye  on  me.  The 
next  day,  I  had  jest  made  me  a  comfortable  dish  of  tea, 
and  set  down  to  drink  it,  when,  the  first  thing  I  know'd, 
an  egg  come  hard  against  my  temples.  Before  I  could 
look  up,  another  fell  into  my  cup  of  tea,  and  spilled  it 
all  over  the  floor.     Thinks  I  to  myself,  some  of  the  whig 

19~^ 


228  THE    REBELS. 

lads  are  playing  their  tricks ;  so  I  catched  up  my  canis- 
ter of  tea,  and  put  it  up  chimly,  out  of  sight ;  and  I  stept 
out  of  the  way  of  the  window,  and  chucked  my  black 
airthen  tea-pot  into  my  pocket.  I  'm  a  sizeable  woman, 
you  know,  and  they  'd  never  mind  w^iat  was  in  my 
pocket,  so  long  as  the  pleets  of  my  gowiid  kivered  it. 
So  I  thought  myself  safe  ;  but,  to  be  sure,  in  comes  one 
of  the  young  dogs,  and  gives  a  thundering  Imock  on  the 
chimly,  and  down  falls  my  canister.  Jest  as  I  stooped 
to  pick  it  up,  they  throwed  a  stone  at  my  pocket,  and 
brolie  the  tea-pot  into  a  thousand  bits ;  —  and  they  shook 
the  tea  all  out  of  my  canister,  and  shoveled  the  ashes 
over  it ;  —  and  they  played  football  with  my  tea-cups, 
till  they  broke  'em  fine  enough  to  scour  knives  with. 
You  may  be  sure  I  was  as  mad  as  if  a  line  of  clothes  had 
fell  down  jest  as  I  got  my  washing  out.  I  called  'em  all 
the  rascals  in  the  country ;  and  they  made  a  great  clamor 
about  the  tea-tax,  and  the  rights  of  man.  If  it  is  the 
rights  of  man,  I  think,  your  honor,  it  is  the  wrongs  of 
woman  ;  and  if  there  is  sich  a  thing  as  justice  in  the 
land,  I  ought  to  have  it.' 

"  The  story  is  good  for  nothing,  even  in  her  own 
words,  unless  you  could  have  heard  her  whining  and 
whimpering,  and  seen  her  visage  of  wrath. 

"  We  gave  her  tea  and  money,  and  pacified  her  with 
promises.  But  w^hat  can  the  magistrates  do  ?  These 
things  grow  worse  and  worse,  every  day.  We  should 
have  another  house  pulled  down  about  our  ears,  if  they 
knew  your  uncle  had  sent  to  request  military  assistance 
from  the  king.  When  the  royal  troops  come,  Governor 
Bernard  will  bear  all  the  blame. 

"  Doctor  Byles  was  gifted  with  the   power  to  speak 


THE    REBELS.  223 

truth,  once  in  his  life,  when  he  said,  '  He  is  a  well-mean- 
ing gentleman.  His  heart  is  on  the  right  side,  as  old 
Townsend,  that  is  dead  and  gone,  once  said;  but  he  is 
as  clever  a  cat's-paw  as  ever  took  hot  nuts  out  of  the 
fire.' 

"  I  should  not  dare  to  write  thus,  if  I  were  not^  sure 
of  putting  my  letter  into  the  hands  of  a  trust-worthy 
Englishman  myself;  for,  do  you  know%  your  last  letter  to 
my  brother-in-law  was  intercepted,  and  printed  full  length 
in  the  Boston  Gazette  ?  What  you  wrote  about  Charles 
Townsend  and  the  taxation  bill  is  ever)' syllable  that  can 
interest  the  rebels ;  but  they  have  placed  it  all  before  the 
public.  However,  it  is  all  of  a  piece  with  that  scandal- 
ous paper.  I  do  not  know  what  the  world  is  coming  to, 
when  kings  have  not  the  power  to  stop  such  proceed- 
ings. Boston  is  like  a  house  on  fire  over  one's  head. 
If  they  continue  so  outrageous,  I  think  your  uncle  will 
conclude  to  reside  altogether  at  his  country-seat,  in 
Milton. 

"  As  for  St.  Dunstan,  —  if  I  had  not  known  the  legend 
about  him,  suffer  me  to  remind  you,  that  it  is  not  re- 
spectful or  decorous  in  you  to  attempt  to  teach  your 
seniors. 

"  We  talk  much  about  our  adopted  niece.  If  you  have 
any  love  or  gratitude  for  us,  give  us  a  legal  title  to  rela- 
tionship before  you  depart  for  America.  I  live  upon  the 
hope  of  seeing  you  and  your  husband  soon. 

"  Your  loving  aunt, 

"  Sally  Sandford." 
Boston,  Oct.  6,  1768. 

Lucretia  was  on  her  way  to  New  England  before  this 
letter  reached  Grosvenor-square.     The  reader  will  read- 


224 


THE    REBELS. 


ily  imagine  that  Miss  Sandford  had  her  own  reasons  for 
urging  a  step  which  she  would  otherwise  have  thought 
very  improper.  This  union  had  always  been  the  most 
cherished  wish  of  her  heart.  She,  as  well  as  Lucretia, 
had  long  supposed  Miss  Osborne's  affections  fixed  on 
Captain  Somerville ;  and  in  the  few  visits  she  had  lately 
paid  her,  it  was  impossible  not  to  notice  her  declining 
health.  These  circumstances,  united  to  what  Miss  Fitz- 
herbert  had  written,  gave  rise  to  uncomfortable  fears. 

The  matron  was  not  cruel  at  heart ;  but  she  some- 
times thought  to  herself,  "  Brother  Hutchinson  will 
break  his  heart  to  have  Lucretia's  large  property  go 
wholly  out  of  the  family.  It  does  seem  to  be  a  pity  for 
Lucretia  to  run  the  risk  of  losing  her  bright  prospects, 
for  the  sake  of  a  puny  little  girl,  who  will  not  live  long 
to  enjoy  anything,  whether  or  no,  —  for  she  has  had  con- 
sumption handed  down  to  her,  both  from  the  father's  and 
the  mother's  side,  for  ten  generations." 

As  for  Colonel  Fitzherbert,  he  might  well  have  en- 
vied Tantalus  and  Ixion  their  torments.  Henry  Osborne 
said  truly,  "  Ambition  was  his  guiding  star —  the  shrine 
at  which  he  sacrificed  both  affection  and  principle."  Yet 
even  in  this  he  was  inconstant.  His  feelings,  chame- 
leon-like, took  their  coloring  from  surrounding  objects  ; 
and  whatsoever  was  present  with  him  was,  for  the  time, 
most  important.  If  his  heart  had  ever  known  genuine 
affection.  Miss  Osborne  certainly  had  inspired  it ;  but 
when  he  was  aware  of  Lucretia's  vast  expectations,  — 
when  he  witnessed  the  splendor  and  influence  of  her 
high-born  uncle,  —  when  he  saw  her  admired  in  the  first 
literary  circles,  and  daily  becoming  more  polished  by 
intercourse   with  the   fashionable  world, — he  regretted 


THE    KEBELS.  225 

the  tie  that  bound  him  to  her  huniLle  friend.  By  de- 
grees, Grace,  in  her  pale  and  placid  beauty,  was  forgot- 
ten ;  or,  if  memor}^  sometimes  presented  her  image,  and 
^yith  it  "  many  a  proof  of  recollected  love,"  he  thought 
of  her  only  as  an  obstacle  in  the  way  of  his  prosperity. 
But  when  the  world  supposed  him  at  the  very  summit 
of  good  fortune,  it  may  well  be  imagined  his  situation 
was  anj'thing  but  enviable.  He  respected  Lucretia  — 
and  he  had  deceived  her  by  the  most  direct  falsehood. 
He  loved  Grace  Osborne  —  yet  he  must  either  lose  the 
much-coveted  prize  just  within  his  grasp,  or  be  married 
to  another,  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  her  whom  he 
had  so  shamefully  "\^Tonged. 

Could  he  have  seen  Grace,  wasted  as  she  was  by 
lingering  illness,  and  utterly  cheerless  in  her  faithful 
affection,  his  better  nature  would  have  prevailed ;  and  he 
would  have  besought  formveness  with  the  earnestness  of 
a  repentant  sinner.  But  he  had  resolved  to  avoid  her 
sight  entirely.  His  mind  was  a  chaos  of  fear  and  con- 
jecture, and  only  one  hope  floated  distinctly  on  its  sur- 
face, namel}',  that  the  impression  he  had  made  might  be 
as  easily  erased  as  the  one  he  had  received,  and  that 
pride  and  delicacy  would  keep  his  secret. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

O !  what  can  sanctify  the  joys  of  home, 

Like  hope's  gay  glance  from  troubled  ocean's  foam  ? 

The  Corsair. 

In  the  October  following,  the  regiments,  with  several 
ships  of  war,  arrived  in  Boston  harbor,  and  drew  up  as 
if  to  blockade  the  town.  In  a  few  days,  the  barracks  at 
the  Castle,  the  Town  House,  and  Faneuil  Hall,  were 
filled;  and  a  long  line  of  tents,  here  and  there  sur- 
mounted by  the  red  cross  standard,  stretched  across  our 
beautiful  Common.  Wherever  the  eye  turned,  it  rested 
on  British  uniforms  ;  —  wherever  the  bright  sun  glanced, 
it  was  reflected  by  British  steel.  There  is  no  language 
that  can  describe  how  the  souls  of  men  were  goaded  and 
maddened,  in  this  hour  of  trial.  The  hum  of  business 
and  of  pleasure  ceased ;  the  wrath  that  had  hitherto 
expended  itself  in  flashes  of  wit,  or  hasty  ebullitions  of 
feeling,  now  retreated  to  garrison  the  heart,  and  left  men 
stern,  silent  and  reserved;  the  step  of  youth  lost  its 
buoyancy,  and  became  firm,  bold  and  heavy,  like  the 
platoon  tread  of  battle ;  even  the  exuberant  glee  of  boy- 
hood was  checked ;  and  "  the  very  air  seemed  like  the 
suppressed  breathing  of  a  curse." 

A  fortnight  after  the  ships  of  war  had  drawn  up 
around  the  entrance  of  the  harbor,  a  merchant-vessel, 
bearing  the  national  flag  of  England,  passed  through  the 
centre  of  their  line,  on  her  way  to  Boston.  Handker- 
chiefs were  seen  waving  on  the  deck,  and  brief  smiles 


THE    REBELS.  227 

were  exchanged,  as  the  brig  rapidly  cut  her  vrny  through 
the  waters.  The  two  men-of-war  occupied  by  Colonel 
Fitzherbert's  troops  fired  a  hea-vy  salute  as  she  passed, 
for  the  betrothed  wife  of  their  commander  was  on  board. 

Lucretia  had  preferred  accompanying  a  few  friends 
m  the  London  packet,  to  an  escort  so  warlike  as  that 
which  attended  her  lover.  A  separation  of  eight  or  ten 
weeks  had,  of  course,  taken  place ;  but  the  moment  the 
brig  was  recognized  by  the  national  vessels,  one  of  them 
lowered  a  boat,  the  packet  slackened  sail,  as  it  was 
swiftly  rowed  toward  her,  and,  ten  minutes  after.  Colonel 
Fitzherbert  was  on  board. 

Vrhen  Lucretia  saw  his  tall,  elegant  figure,  when  she 
listened  to  the  voice  that  had,  for  the  last  two  months, 
been  heard  only  in  her  dreams,  ail  her  doubts  and  cares 
were  forgotten,  and  she  received  him  with  a  warm  and 
frank  affection  which  she  made  no  attempt  to  conceal; 
but  his  brow  was  troubled,  —  he  seemed  absent  and  un- 
easy, —  and,  though  unbounded  in  his  gallantry,  it  was 
too  m.uch  like  the  heartless  obsequiousness  of  habit. 

"  You  have  seen  all  our  friends  ?  "  said  Lucretia,  her 
ver}'  plain  face  brightening  with  eagerness  and  joy,  as 
she  spoke. 

"  I  have,  and  everj*  one  is  impatient  for  your  arrival. 
I  almost  began  to  be  jealous  of  your  superior  importance, 
when  I  found  every  welcome  cut  short  by  inquiries  and 
lamentations  for  you." 

Lucretia  pla^-fully  threw  her  handkerchief  to  his  face, 
as  she  smiled,  and  said,  "  Aunt  Sandford  is  just  as 
precise,  impatient  and  good-hearted,  as  ever,  I  suppose ; 
and  quite  as  learned  with  regard  to  the  comparative 
value  of  Hechlin  and  Brussels  ?  " 


228  THE    REBELS. 

"  I  have  heard  no  disputes  of  that  nature,"  replied  the 
colonel ;  "  but  her  arguments  with  Doctor  Byles  are  as 
acid  as  ever.  Last  evening  they  had  some  altercation 
about  grammar;  at  the  close  of  which,  she  told  him 
she  thoroughly  disliked  people  that  were  always  in  the 
imperative  mood.  'And  I,  for  my  part,'  rejoined  the 
doctor,  '  have  no  patience  with  a  person  who  is  forever 
in  the  accusative  case.  It  is  a  pity  she  has  not  an  active 
verb  for  a  husband.'  " 

"  Has  your  good  uncle  altered  any  ?  and  does  he  lose 
■  his  temper  with  my  insubordinate  countrymen  ?  "  asked 
/   Miss  Fitzherbert. 

"  O,  you  know  Uncle  Hutchinson  well  enough,"  said 
he,  in  a  confidential  tone.  "  The  more  uproar,  the  better 
sport  for  him,  as  long  as  the  tea  is  consigned  to  his  sons, 
and  commissions  given  to  his  nephews.  He  does  but" 
1  act  from  the  motives  that  stimulate  us  all,  in  every  pur- 
suit. All  mankind  are  selfish ;  and  the  greater  their 
hypocrisy,  the  more  credit  they  get  for  benevolence  and 
patriotism." 

We  will  not  develop  the  train  of  association  in  Miss 
Fitzherbert's  mind ;  but  her  expression  saddened,  and 
her  voice  was  hurried,  as  she  asked,  "  Have  you  seen 
the  Osbornes  ? " 

"  I  met  Henry  in  the  street,"  rejoined  he ;  "  but  the 
interviews  between  whigs  and  dragoons  are  not  likely 
to  be  the  most  cordial  in  the  world;"  and  when  he  had 
given  this  laconic  answer,  his  lips  compressed  firmly,  as 
if  they  were  never  more  to  open. 

"  Is  it  possible  you  have  not  called  there  ?  "  inquired 
Lucretia. 

Colonel  Fitzherbert's  face  was  even  redder  than  his 


THE    REBELS.  229 

uniform;  and  he  angrily  answered,  " I  have  not  called, 
madam.  I  have  political  as  well  as  personal  reasons  ; 
and  you  know  them  both.  It  is  a  subject  upon  which 
I  have  desired  you  never  to  speak.  Methinks  you  take 
it  upon  you  somewhat  early  to  regulate  my  motions." 

Miss  Fitzherbert  did  not  attempt  to  reply.  The  tears 
started  to  her  eyes,  and  she  turned  away  to  conceal 
them. 

"A  plague  on  her  jealousy  ! "  thought  the  colonel.  "I 
shall  lose  her,  at  this  rate.  Confound  it  I  that  ever  I 
should  place  myself  in  a  dilemma,  where  I  can  neither 
take  a  decided  stand,  nor  retreat  with  honor." 

"  Pardon  me.  Miss  Fitzherbert! "  said  he,  aloud.  "If 
5'ou  knew  half  the  insults  that  have  been  heaped  upon 
his  majesty's  troops  in  this  rebellious  town,  you  would 
not  wonder  that  I  speak  of  Bostonians  with  som.e  asper- 
ity. I  assure  you,  dearest  Lucretia,  I  did  not  mean  to 
wound  your  feeling-s." 

"  The  offence  that  I  cannot  find  it  in  my  heart  to  for- 
give  you,  Frederic,  must,  indeed,  be  of  a  deep  die,"  she 
replied. 

As  she  finished  speaking,  she  joined  a  group  of  ladies 
on  the  quarter-deck,  and  the  conversation  became  gen- 
eral, until  the  vessel  drew  up  to  the  wharf.  The  lieu- 
tenant governor  was  standing  beside  his  carriage,  at  the 
landing,  waving  his  handkerchief,  in  signal  of  welcome. 
Lucretia's  heart  rose  painfully  high,  as  scenes  so  well 
remembered  and  beloved  came  upon  her  view.  It  seemed 
to  her  as  if  the  packet  would  never  reach  its  destined 
point ;  and  scarcely  had  its  motion  ceased,  ere  fhe  was 
on  shore,  enfolded  in  the  arms  of  her  uncle. 

After  the  first  congratulations  were  over,  he  observed, 
20 


230 


THE    REBELS. 


"  Our  telescope  has  been  in  great  demand,  for  several 
days.  We  descried  the  packet  before  it  passed  the 
castle,  and  hastened  to  receive  you.  The  carriage  has 
been  in  waiting  an  hour;  for  Madam  Sandford  could 
not  believe  that  winds  and  waves  would  be  no  more 
favorable  to  you  than  to  other  mortals." 

Lucretia  begged  that  they  might  be  detained  no  longer 
than  was  necessary;  and  Colonel  Fitzherbert  having 
promised  soon  to  follow  with  the  ser^-ants  and  baggage, 
they  gave  their  parting  salutations  to  the  ladies  on  board, 
and  ordered  the  coachman  to  drive  on. 

Our  traveller  felt  a  sort  of  bewildered  and  incredu- 
lous sensation,  when  she  found  herself  whirled  along  in 
the  self-same  carriage,  and  through  the  self-same  streets, 
which  she  had,  two  years  before,  traversed  with  such 
totally  different  feelings. 

She  had  then  formed  m.any  plans  for  the  single  life 
on  which  she  thought  herself  firmh^  and  forever  resolved ; 
she  had  returned  the  affianced  bride  of  the  yerj  man 
for  whose  sake  she  had  made  the  resolution.  She  was 
then  anxious  and  frightened  at  the  weight  of  splendor 
she  saw  in  prospect ;  it  now  sat  easily  and  gracefully 
upon  her;  and  so  great  was  her  improvement  in  mind 
and  manners,  that  few  would  have  recognized  the  Amer- 
ican orphan,  in  the  richly  dressed  and  highly  cultivated 
English  heiress. 

The  changes  that  had  taken  place  in  Boston  seemed 
to  Lucretia  even  greater  than  her  own.  The  whole  face 
of  that  thriving  and  happy  population  was  indeed  most 
sadly  changed.  The  troops,  in  their  gorgeous,  flame- 
colored  uniform,  were  extended  in  long  lines,  or  scattered 
in  groups,  throughout  the  town.     Cannon  were  placed  in 


THE    REBELS.  231 

front  of  Faneuil  Hall;  and  sentinels,  with  gleaming 
bayonets,  paced  to  and  fro,  in  front  of  the  building. 
The  citizens,  in  their  plain  republican  dress,  eyed  their 
gaudy  oppressors  with  an  angr^^  scowl,  and,  passing  to 
the  other  side,  shunned  them  as  if  they  were  a  "  pesti- 
lence walking  at  noon-day." 

Lucretia  had  heard  much  of  the  increasing  disorders 
in  her  native  land ;  but  she  was  not  prepared  for  a  sight 
like  this ;  and  her  native  generosity  and  high  ideas  of 
freedom,  for  a  moment,  overcame  the  influences  that 
surrounded  her. 

"  The  Spanish  have  insulted  England,"  she  said, 
"  and  the  government  have  paused  to  deliberate,  and 
condescended  to  reason  with  them ;  but  when  Americans 
remonstrate,  it  seems  they  are  answered  in  a  voice  of 
thunder.  Methinks  the  revenue  must  be  costly  that  is 
extorted  at  the  point  of  so  many  bayonets." 

"  It  is  but  for  a  short  time,"  answered  Hutchinson ; 
"  and  the  army  lack  employment  just  now.  We  have 
only  to  show  these  rebels  what  England  can  do,  and 
they  will  then  submit  Tvith  as  good  a  grace  as  possible." 

Miss  Fitzherbert  had  no  attention  to  give  to  such  dis- 
cussions at  that  moment,  for  the  home  of  her  youth 
was  before  her. 

Jethro  flourished  his  whip,  and  the  horses  gave  a 
bound,  as  if  they  partook  of  her  impatience. 

To  press  her  earliest  friend  again  and  again  to  her 
heart,  —  to  ask  a  thousand  questions, —  to  call  the  ser- 
vants around  her,  and  bid.  them  welcome, —  seemed  but 
the  work  of  a  moment. 

After  the  first  joyful  agitation  was  over,  Miss  Sand  ford 
followed  her  to  her   dressing-room.      "  Why,  you  are 


232  THE    REBELS. 

quite  a  different  being! "  said  she,  taking  her  by  the  arm, 
and  carefully  examining  her  dress,  from  the  ornamented 
India  comb,  to  the  embroidered  hem  of  her  travelling 
habit.  "I  declare,  how  much  good  it  does  some  folks  to 
travel !  " 

"My  heart  is  not  changed,"  replied  Lucretia.  "I 
hope  it  will  never  be  chilled.     Is  Grace  Osborne  well  ?" 

"  That  is  just  what  I  want  to  speak  with  you  about," 
replied  Miss  Sandford.  "  You  could  not  have  received 
my  answer  to  the  letter  j^ou  wrote  me  in  August  ?  " 

"No,  I  did  not,  dear  madam  ;  but  what  of  Grace  ?" 

"  I  was  going  to  scold  at  you  for  your  silly  conduct ; 
but  it  seems  you  did  not  receive  my  letter ;  and  we  are 
really  glad  to  have  you  married  here ;  only,  taking  one 
thing  with  another,  I  think  it  would  have  been  far  better 
to  have  had  the  wedding  before  you  left  Fitzherbert 
Hall." 

"Well,  dear  aunt,  I  will  talk  of  all  this  another  time. 
What  were  you  going  to  say  of  Grace  ? " 

"Why,  my  child,  I  do  not  think  it  is  proper  for  you 
to  ask  Colonel  Fitzherbert  questions  about  her.  It  only 
offends  him." 

"Heaven  knows,  I  would  sooner  suffer  myself,  than 
give  him  pain,  at  any  time,"  replied  Lucretia  ;  "but  why 
should  that  offend  him.  Aunt  Sandford  ? " 

"Why,  from  all  that  I  can  gather,  there  was  some 
foolish  business  at  Mr.  Osborne's ;  but  then  it  was  a  frolic 
of  youth  —  nothing  was  ever  meant  by  it.  Grace  told 
me,  last  week,  that  she  would  not  marry  Colonel  Fitzher- 
bert, even  if  he  wished  it.  I  do  not  believe  a  word  of 
that ;  but  then  it  shows  plainly  enough  that  she  cares 
nothing  about  him.     So,  if  she  does  look  a  little  paler 


THE    REBELS. 


233 


than  she  did  when  you  went  away,  don't  imagine  she  is 
dying  for  love.  Consumption  has  run  in  her  family  for 
years," 

"O,  aunt!"  exclaim.ed  Lucretia,  "why  didn't  you  tell 
me  she  was  ill  before  this  ?  " 

"She  is  not  ill — that  is,  not  ver^^  ill;  only  a  little 
thinner  than  she  was  two  years  ago.  I  dare  say  she  will 
be  well  as  ever  before  the  winter  is  gone." 

Lucretia  gave  her  a  most  anxious  and  distressed  look. 
She  saw  that  her  aunt  wished  to  prepare  her  for  some- 
thing which  she  had  not  the  courage  to  reveal.  All  her 
native  impetuosity  rushed  to  her  heart.  "  I  must  see 
her  now — this  ver}^  hour!"  said  she.  "0,  how  I  shall 
wish  I  had  never  seen  England-I "  and  without  regard- 
ino-  the  arguments,  tears  and  remonstrances,  of  the  mat- 
ron,  she  caught  her  bonnet,  flew  down  stairs,  and  with 
hurried  step  hastened  to  the  well-remembered  dvrelling 
of  her  friend. 

A  loud  and  rapid  knock  indicated  her  impatience. 

"  How  do  3-ou  do,  Phoebe  ? "  said  she,  as  the  servant 
opened  the  door.  "  Is  IMiss  Grace  at  home  ?  Tell  her 
Lucretia  Fitzherbert  is  here." 

Miss  Osborne's  writing-desk  was  open  on  the  library' 
table,  and  a  book  in  which  she  had  just  been  writing  lay 
upon  it. 

The  wind  blew  the  leaves  as  Lucretia  entered  the 
room,  and  she  noticed  one  page  all  blistered  with  tears. 
It  was  several  minutes  before  Grace  made  her  appear- 
ance. She  was  tr}'ing  to  compose  herself  for  the 
dreaded,  though  much  wished-for  interview.  Presently, 
a  light  step  was  heard,  and  an  instant  after,  she  was 
sobbing  upon  the  neck  of  her  long-absent  friend. 

20^ 


234  THE    REBELS. 

Her  form  was  attenuated  almost  to  a  shadow  of  her 
former  self,  and  the  bright  red  spot  on  her  cheek  pro- 
claimed too  well  that,  to  her,  the  world  had  little  more 
to  offer. 

Lucretia  saw  the  dreadful  truth  at  a  single  glance ; 
and  when  she  drew  her  closely  to  her  heart,  that  heart 
ached  almost  to  bursting. 

Poor  Grace  had  vainly  endeavored  to  nerve  her  gentle 
nature  for  the  trying  scene.  Her  early  friendship, — her 
bright  and  happy  dream  of  love,  —  all  —  all  were  con- 
jured up  too  vividly  before  her.  Both  wept,  longer  and 
more  Adolently  than  joy  ever  weeps  ;  — and  when  the  first 
tumult  of  emotion  had  at  last  subsided,  neither  of  them 
dared  trust  her  own  voice  to  express  feelings  so  deep  and 
complicated. 

After  a  very  long  silence,  Lucretia  brushed  back  her 
disordered  hair,  and  making  an  effort  to  be  cheerful, 
said,  "Where  is  jom:  father  and  Henry,  dear  Grace?" 

"They  have  gone  to  Cambridge,  to  remain  until 
night,"  she  replied. 

A  thrill  ran  through  Miss  Fitzherbert's  whole  frame. 
That  voice  had  still  the  spirit  of  melody  within  it  —  but, 
oh,  how  feeble,  how  hollow,  were  its  tones ! 

"Then  I  will  stay  with  you  all  day,  if  you  can  send 
word  to  Aunt  Sandford." 

"It  is  kind  —  very  kind  in  you  to  remain  wnth  me, 
when  so  many  other  friends  are  wishing  to  see  you," 
said  Grace. 

"J  never  was  unkind,"  she  replied,  pressing  her  hand 
earnestly ;  and,  unable  longer  to  crowd  back  the  subject 
that  was  ever  uppermost  in  her  heart,  she  burst  into  tears, 


THE    REBELS.  235 

and  exclaimed,  "  0,  dearest  Grace,  if  you  had  but  told 


me !  " 


Her  friend  looked  up  inquiringly.  The  idea  that 
Lucretia  suspected  the  truth,  now,  for  the  first  time, 
flashed  upon  her  mind ;  and,  without  reply,  she  buried 
her  face  in  her  handkerchief. 

Another  long  pause  was  interrupted  by  Miss  Fitzher- 
bert,  who,  in  a  frenzied  tone,  said,  "Tell  me,  Grace,  and 
tell  me  truly,  —  did  Colonel  Fitzherbert  offer  you  mar- 
riage, before  he  left  America  ? " 

"He  never  offered  it,"  answered  Miss  Osborne. 

"  How,  then,  could  he  tell  me  you  had  rejected  him  ?  " 

Grace  tried  to  smile,  as  she  answered,  "How  came 
you  to  doubt  the  word  of  your  destined  husband  ?  It  is 
a  sad  thing,  Lucretia." 

"If  you  think  so,"  rejoined  her  friend,  "speak  but  one 
word,  to  tell  me  those  doubts  are  unfounded.  Can  you, 
ought  you,  in  conscience,  to  conceal  anything  from  me, 
in  a  case  where  the  whole  happiness  of  my  life  is  at 
stake  ? " 

Grace  gazed  at  her  for  a  moment  with  intense  expres- 
sion, as  if  she  would  have  gladly  laid  down  her  life  to 
speak  that  one  consoling  word,  could  she  have  spoken  it 
truly ;  then,  with  a  com-ulsed  motion,  she  covered  her 
face  with  both  her  hands,  and  wept  aloud. 

"I  wish  you  both  happy,"  said  she,  in  a  voice  stifled 
with  sobs;  "and  if  you  cannot  be  so  otherwise,  forget 
that  such  a  creature  as  Grace  Osborne  ever  lived." 

"1,  for  one,  cannot  be  happy  on  such  conditions,"  re- 
plied Lucretia.  In  accents  of  exceeding  tenderness,  she 
added,  "You  are  ill,  dear  Grace;  —  verj'  ill,  and 
ATetched." 


-2116 


THE    REBELS. 


"  I  am  ill,  but  not  wretched,"  answered  Miss  Osborne. 
"Consumption  is  handed  down  to  our  family  through 
many  generations;  but  'the  cup  that  my  Heavenly 
Father  hath  given  me  to  drink,  shall  I  not  drink  it  ? ' 
Truly  it  is  offered  at  an  early  age ;  but  religion  sweetens 
the  draught." 

"  Colonel  Fitzherbert  still  loves  you,"  said  Lucretia. 
"  He  has  struggled  with  his  affection,  but  he  cafmot  con- 
quer it ;  for  he  never  hears  you  mentioned,  without  deep 
emotion.  Were  I  to  tell  him  all,  he  would  return  to 
you ;  I  know  he  would,  —  for  he  is  kind  and  generous, 
with  all  his  faults.  Could  you  forgive  him,  and  live  for 
his  sake  ?  " 

The  shrinking  delicacy  of  Grace  revolted  at  the  idea ; 
and,  forgetful  of  her  caution,  she  exclaimed,  "Could 
you  remind  a  lover  of  his  broken  vow  ?  When  he  had 
turned  from  you,  could  you  pluck  him  by  the  sleeve, 
and  entreat  him  for  one  kind  glance  ?  " 

"  O,  my  God  !  "  exclaimed  Lucretia,  springing  on  her 
feet,  and  pacing  the  room  in  the  agony  of  her  spirit,  "  it 
is  true  !  —  it  is  true  !  " 

Grace  pitied  her  from  her  inmost  soul.  She  pressed 
her  hand  to  her  lips,  twined  her  wasted  arms  around  her 
neck,  and  tried  every  soothing  endearment  that  friend- 
ship and  compassion  could  suggest. 

It  was  not  long  before  Lucretia  assumed  her  native 
firmness  and  energy.  "  This  subject  is  too  distressing 
to  us  both,"  said  she.  "  How  well  I  have  loved  him,  and 
what  a  wreck  this  is  to  all  my  hopes,  mortal  can  never 
know.  Neither  of  us  is  to  blame.  You  did  not  tell  me 
of  this  before  I  left  America,  because  you  well  knew 
how    much    my  own  feelings  were   entangled.     Had  I 


THE    REBELS.  237 

knoTNii  it  earlier,  I  would  sooner  have  died  than  have 
given  such  a  stab  to  your  peace ;  and  you,  iu  your  disin- 
terested kindness,  would  willingly  have  gone  to  your 
grave,  and  left  me  in  ignorance  of  it.  I  have  only  one 
question  more  to  ask ;  if  Colonel  Fitzherbert  were  again 
free,  would  you  many  him  ? " 

Grace  was  silent  a  moment ;  and  there  seemed  to  be  a 
slight  conflict  of  feeling ;  but  in  her  pure  and  well-prin- 
cipled mind  it  could  not  last  long.  With  a  steady  voice, 
she  answered,  "  No.  I  could  not  respect  a  man  whose 
principles  had  ever  wavered.  I  could  not  intrust  my 
happiness  to  one  whose  affection  for  me  had  once  been 
shaken.  It  is  a  grievous  disappointment,  to  find  duplic- 
ity where  we  had  expected  truth  ;  but  love  cannot  remain, 
when  confidence  has  fled.  His  attachment  to  you  will, 
no  doubt,  continue ;  for  your  mind  is  capable  of  reflect- 
ing all  the  light  of  his." 

"  And  you  have  truly  expressed  your  decided  senti- 
ments ? "  said  Lucretia. 

"I  have." 

"  Then  we  will  never  more  speak  of  it,  dear  Grace." 

"With  affected  calmness,  Miss  Fitzherbert  then  asked 
some  general  questions  about  her  work,  her  books,  &c. ; 
but  the  conversation  soon  became  languid.  Lucretia 
leaned  her  head  on  her  hand  in  silence,  watchinsf  the 
various  fantastic  figures  formed  by  the  glowing  embers ; 
and  as  Grace  looked  steadily  at  the  same  object,  the  tear 
that  would  not  drop  rested  on  her  long,  drooping  eye- 
lash, like  liquid  pearl. 

"  You  must  excuse  me,  Lucretia,  if  I  retire  to  my 
bed,"  said  she.     "I  am  weak,  and  a  trifle  wearies  me," 


238 


THE    REBELS. 


She  rose,  and  attempted  to  walk,  but  again  sunk  into 
the  chair,  from  extreme  debility. 

Lucretia  and  Phoebe  supported  her  to  her  couch.  For 
an  hour  or  more,  her  friend  continued  to  walk  softly 
about  the  chamber,  now  and  then  pausing  to  bathe  her 
head,  or  whisper  some  word  of  kindness. 

Phoebe  prepared  food ;  but  though  Miss  Fitzherbert 
had  tasted  very  slight  refreshment  since  her  arrival,  it 
was  with  difficulty  she  constrained  herself  to  eat  a  few 
morsels,  just  to  satisfy  the  kind-hearted  servant. 

"  You  see  I  am  restless,  dear  Grace,"  said  she.  "  I 
cannot  feel  easy  anywhere,  just  now ;  and  you  will  be 
more  calm,  if  I  leave  you." 

"  You  will  come  again,  soon  ?  "  said  Grace,  warmly 
pressing  her  hand. 

Lucretia  stooped  do^vn  and  kissed  her  fading  cheek ; 
"  To-morrow,  and  next  day,  and  every  day,  my  dear  girl," 
said  she. 

When  she  descended  to  the  library,  she  walked  the 
room  slowly  for  several  minutes,  endeavoring  to  collect 
her  scattered  thoughts,  and  decide  on  the  course  of  con- 
duct she  was  to  pursue. 

Miss  Osborne's  book  still  lay  on  the  writing-desk,  open 
at  the  blistered  page.  Curiosity  was  powerfully  excited, 
and,  without  trusting  herself  to  think  of  the  impropriety 
of  such  an  action,  she  eagerly  read  its  contents.  It 
appeared  to  have  been  dated  on  the  same  day  that  she 
had  received  Lucretia's  letter  of  November  15th;  and 
indicated  a  powerful  struggle  in  the  mind  of  the  consci- 
entious girl. 

In  one  line  she  expressed  a  resolution  to  make  her 
friend  acquainted  with  Colonel  Fitzhcrbert's  real  charac- 


THE    REBELS.  239 

ter ;  —  in  the  next,  she  seemed  to  doubt  whether  this 
purpose  had  been  formed  from  a  sense  of  duty,  or  from 
pride,  resentment,  or  some  other  lurking  evil  of  her 
nature. 

On  the  first  page  of  the  book  was  pinned  the  billet 
that  had  accompanied  Somerv'ille's  rose.  Grace,  secure 
in  the  absence  of  all  her  family,  had  unguardedly  left 
her  desk  open ;  and  her  friend's  unexpected  visit  had 
driven  it  entirely  from  her  memor}'. 

Lucretia  was  not,  till  now,  aware  hov*'  strongly  she 
had  hoped  that  her  fears  were  all  ungrounded ;  —  but 
here  was  confirmation  strong.  The  sparlding  cup  of 
happiness  was  indeed  broken  at  her  feet. 

Colonel  Fitzherbert  had  spent  the  afternoon  at  Gov- 
ernor Hutchinson's,  in  a  state  of  mind  scarcely  more 
enviable  than  that  of  Montezuma  when  stretched  on  his 
bed  of  flaming  coals.  Apprehension,  rem.orse,  ambition 
and  avarice,  were  all  struggling  -^-ithin  him  for  victor}'. 
It  was  one  of  those  eventful  moments  in  life,  when  char- 
acter and  destiny  seem  to  be  entirely  placed  m  the  hand 
of  circumstance.  His  affection  for  Grace  som.etimes  / 
returned  upon  his  heart,  like  a  bird  of  calm,  not  to  be 
driven  away  by  the  lowering  storm.  He  had  been  told 
that  Lucretia 's  sudden  visit  was  owing  to  her  slight  illness. 
Vanity,  or  something  better,  whispered  that  he  might 
possibly  be  the  cause ;  and  for  a  moment  the  fresh  garland 
of  youthful  love  seemed  preferable  to  wealth's  glittering 
chain.  His  conscience  whispered  to  him  that  he  was 
a  knave ;  and  reason  plainly  told  him  he  was  a  fool. 
His  fault  had  no  tinge  of  spirit  in  it.  It  was  base  and 
cowardly.  He  had  sought  to  attain  his  wishes  by  means 
not  only  unjustifiable,  but  strangely  impolitic  ;  and  now. 


240  THE    REBELS. 

while  unbending-  pride  forbade  him  to  take  a  single  step 
to  extricate  himself,  he  saw  his  happiness  and  his  worldly 
prosperity  suspended  by  threads  equally  brittle. 

However,  he  compelled  himself  to  reject  all  thoughts 
except  Lucretia's  princely  fortune.  He  was  alone  in  the 
parlor,  when  she  entered ;  and,  having  studied  his  part, 
he  performed  it  well. 

Raising  her  hand  to  his  lips,  he  complained  that,  after 
having  been  separated  so  long,  she  should  leave  him  thus 
abruptly. 

Whatever  Lucretia's  feelings  were,  her  manner  was 
polite,  though  melancholy,  and  fairly  baffled  all  conjec- 
ture. 

After  talking  upon  subjects  of  general  interest,  the 
colonel  at  length  ventured  to  speak  of  their  marriage. 

With  a  constrained  smile,  Lucretia  answered,  "  I 
leave  that  matter  entirely  to  you  and  Aunt  Sandford. 
I  promise  to  conform  to  any  arrangement  you  choose  to 
make." 

This  was  more  than  he  had  hoped.  He  had  expected 
to  hear  doubts  stated,  if  not  to  be  loaded  with  reproaches  ; 
and  the  ready  acquiescence  which  lightened  his  heart  of 
such  a  load  of  apprehension  utterly  bewildered  him. 
"  It  is,  then,  as  I  hoped,"  thought  he  ;  "  Grace  no  longer 
cares  for  me,  and  she  has  kindly  and  delicately  con- 
cealed what  she  no  doubt  considers  a  mere  boyish 
freak." 

Once  the  thought  crossed  his  mind,  that  Lucretia 
knew  all,  but  could  not  persuade  herself  to  relinquish 
him.  If  it  was  so,  he  certainly  was  not  disposed  to 
quarrel  with  such  strength  of  affection,  at  that  moment. 
His  vanity  was  flattered,  and  his  feelings  gratified,  by 


"  THE    REBELS.  241 

such  exclusive  preference.  The  admiration  she  had 
evinced  during  their  first  acquaintance,  which  he  then 
thought  somewhat  too  undisguised,  was  now  remembered 
with  pleasure ;  and  with  no  little  exultation  he  recalled 
to  his  mind,  how  often  a  single  remark  from  him  had 
made  her  deaf  to  all  the  eloquence  and  flattery  that  sur- 
rounded her  in  England.  He  well  knew  that  this  was 
no  stratagem  —  no  trick  of  policy.  It  was  the  natural 
movements  of  a  glowing  heart,  unpractised  in  conceal- 
ment ;  and  it  did  awaken  gratitude  that  almost  bordered 
on  affection. 

Madam  Sandford  was  even  more  surprised,  rejoiced, 
and  puzzled;  Governor  Hutchinson,  ignorant  of  his 
nephew's  "hair-breadth  'scapes,"  was  warm  and  sin- 
cere in  his  congratulations  ;  and  all,  save  the  heart  of 
Lucretia,  "  went  merry  as  a  marriage-bell." 

She  passed  a  sleepless,  miserable  night.  To  love  and 
doubt,  is  torment  enough  ;  —  but  to  love,  and  yet  know 
we  are  the  victims  of  cold,  selfish,  deceitful  policy,  is 
"  anguish  unmixed,  and  agony  pure." 

21 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

My  laddie  's  sae  mickle  in  luve  wi'  the  siller, 
He  canna  hae  luve  to  spare  for  me.        Burns. 

We  pass  over  the  very  pathetic  meeting  between  Lu- 
cretia  and  the  elder  Mr.  Osborne,  as  well  as  her  various 
interviews  with  Grace  ;  and  leaving  sundry  unimportant 
matters  to  the  reader's  imagination,  we  hasten  on  to  the 
first  of  December,  the  eventful  day  fixed  upon  for  this 
most  inauspicious  wedding.  The  bride  seemed  to  be  the 
only  one  totally  indifferent  concerning  the  great  prepara- 
tions that  were  making  for  her  marriage.  Indeed,  she 
kept  herself  almost  entirely  secluded,  even  from  her  own 
family.  This  conduct  Madam  Sandford  attributed  to  a 
proper  maidenly  reserve ;  and  the  colonel  considered  the 
rents  of  her  vast  English  estates  much  more  worthy  sub- 
jects of  calculation  than  her  views  and  feelings  possibly 
could  be. 

Thus  the  whole  management  devolved  upon  Madam 
Sandford  ;  and  truly  it  could  not  have  fallen  into  more 
able  hands. 

Her  arrangements  were  altogether  splendid,  —  such  as 
were  well  worthy  of  the  sole  descendant  of  the  aristo- 
cratic house  of  Fitzherbert. 

The  rooms  were  tastefully  festooned  with  evergreens 
and  artificial  roses ;  in  front  of  two  large  lamps  were 
placed  the  armorial  bearings  of  Somerville  and  Fitzher- 
bert, richly  painted  on  glass ;  a  full  band  of  music  was 
stationed  near  the  house ;   and  at  a  very  early  hour  in 


THE    REBELS.  243 

the  evening,  the  whole  mansion  was  brilliantly  illumi- 
nated. Such  regal  magnificence  had  never  before  been 
seen  in  the  colony ;  and  every  avenue  was  crowded  long 
before  the  rooms  began  to  fill  with  company.  The  Brit- 
ish officers,  in  full  uniform,  their  plumes  glancing 
beneath  the  rich  flood  of  light  that  streamed  from  the 
chandeliers,  added  much  to  the  general  enchantment  of 
the  scene. 

When  Doctor  Byles,  in  his  canonical  robes,  followed 
by  his  wife  and  daughter,  entered,  the  throng  respect- 
fully made  way  for  him  to  pass  into  the  inner  room. 
There  vras  Governor  Hutchinson,  in  his  richest  garb, 
seated  in  a  chair  covered  with  blue  velvet ;  there  was 
Miss  Sandford,  smiling  and  courtesying  to  her  visitors  ; 
tr}'ing  with,  all  her  might  to  be  tranquil,  but  ever  and 
anon  moving  about  to  see  that  the  transparencies  were 
rightly  fitted  to  the  lamps,  or  that  the  paper  ornaments 
were  safe  from  fire;  there,  too,  in  a  few  moments, 
appeared  Lucretia  Fitzherbert  by  the  side  of  her  bride- 
groom,—  glittering  in  silks  and  jewels,  yet  pale,  anxious 
and  agitated,  —  more  like  a  victim  decorated  for  sacri- 
fice than  the  joyful  bride  of  the  man  she  loved.  A  sig- 
nal was  given  as  they  entered,  and  the  band  from  with- 
out struck  up  one  of  their  boldest  and  most  exhilarating 
tunes. 

Doctor  Byles  seemed  in  high  spirits.  "  I  never  before 
saw  Mars  in  such  close  attendance  upon  Hymen,"  said 
he.  "  If  the  Englishman  you  spoke  of.  Miss  Fitzherbert, 
could  be  present  at  this  time,  I  think  he  would  never 
repeat  his  question,  whether  Massachusetts  was  on  the 
Facijic  coast." 


244  THE    REBELS. 

"  The  music  surely  is  not  of  a  warlike  character,"  said 
Colonel  Fitzherbert,  smiling. 

"  Why,  not  exactly,  to  be  sure  ;  but  who  ever  heard 
of  Cupid's  sounding  a  trumpet  ?  For  my  own  part,  I 
wish  there  was  a  law  passed  against  playing  upon  any 
wdnd  instruments,  except  words ^ 

"  That  exception  would  touch  you  nearly,  to  be  sure," 
replied  Hutchinson.  "  But  if  the  English  Parliament 
should  interfere  with  the  concords,  as  well  as  the  discords, 
of  these  loyal  provinces,  they  would  be  louder  than  ever 
in  their  complaint  of  grievances."  , 

"  I  am  sure,"  answered  the  clergyman,  glancing  round 
on  the  gaudy  uniforms,  "  if  Dr.  Willard  himself  were 
here,  he  could  not  deny  that  New  England  grievances 
are  red-dressed.'*^ 

"  That  is  a  bad  joke,"  rejoined  Miss  Sandford.  "  You 
make  use  of  two  D's." 

"  And  who,  I  pray  you,  madam,  has  a  better  right  to 
two  D's  than  myself?  By  the  way,  I  believe  it  is  time 
for  me  to  act  in  my  clerical  character.  Shall  we  pro- 
ceed to  the  ceremony  ?  " 

Governor  Hutchinson  looked  tow^ard  the  bride  and 
brideoToom,  and  bowed  assent. 

O,  what  a  moment  that  was  for  Lucretia  !  Her  color 
went  and  came,  as  rapidly  as  the  lightning  flickers  in  an 
over-charged  cloud.  During  the  prayer  which  Doctor 
Byles  uttered  for  the  happiness  and  prosperity  of  those 
he  was  about  to  unite,  the  death-like  paleness  of  her 
cheek,  and  her  lip,  cold,  damp  and  quivering,  betrayed 
emotion  deep  and  agonizing.  When  he  paused,  —  with 
a  quick  gasp,  and  a  start,  sudden  as  that  which  precedes 
a  violent  death,  she  said,  "  Stop,  sir!    I  can  never  be  the 


THE    REBELS.  245 

wife  of  Colonel  Fitzherbert.  That  he  sought  me  for  my 
wealth  only,  deserved  my  silent  contempt ;  —  that  his 
falsehood  has  broken  a  generous  heart,  justifies  this 
public  expression  of  scorn."  Her  eyes  were  fixed  with 
intense  expression,  her  cheek  glowed,  and  her  stature 
seemed  to  rise  with  the  loftiness  of  her  feelings,  as  she 
left  the  apartment. 

Every  degree  of  surprise  and  curiosity,  which  the 
human  countenance  is  capable  (»f  expressing,  was  at  that 
moment  visible.  The  bridegToom  listened  to  her  unex- 
pected  declaration,  and  watched  her  retiring  figure,  with 
a  look  strangely  complicated  and  embarrassed.  All 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  him,  during  this  momentary'  con- 
fusion. But  brief  space,  however,  was  given  to  the 
eager  gaze  of  wonder  and  curiosity.  His  proud  heart 
stung  to  the  very  core  with  shame,  and  his  naturally 
violent  temper  maddened  into  fur}',  Colonel  Fitzherbert 
rushed  out  of  the  house,  and  was  not  again  seen  there 
that  night. 

The  clergjinan  remained  motionless  with  astonish- 
ment ;  the  hum  of  voices  gTew  loud  and  general ;  some 
of  the  ladies  smiled,  some  sneered,  and  all  were  busy  in 
conjecturing  the  causes  of  this  singular  catastrophe. 
Many  of  the  officers  reddened  with  anger ;  but  not  a  few 
said,  "  Hang  it,  I  like  the  girl's  spirit ;  —  but  if  a  man 
had  offered  this  insult  to  our  colonel,  he  would  have 
needed  forty  lives  to  answer  for  it." 

The  company  soon  began  to  consider  that,  under  such 
circumstances,  it  was  highly  proper  for  them  to  depart ; 
and  one  after  another  went  away,  until  the  mansion  was 
entirely  left  in  its  solitary''  glare  and  unheeded  splendor. 
There  are  few  scenes  so  very  desolate  as  a  brilliantly 

21=^ 


246  THE    REBELS. 

lighted  room,  in  which  the  sound  of  mirth  and  music  has 
ceased,  and  the  echo  of  footsteps  died  away.  It  is  like 
gems  and  garlands  on  the  still,  cold  corpse ;  like  vases 
and  statues  in  the  desert.  A  mysterious  hand  writes 
upon  the  wall,  "  Soul  has  been  here,"  —  and  we  shudder 
at  its  meaning. 

Governor  Hutchinson  and  his  sister  were  not  present 
to  hear  the  eager  inquiries,  the  shrewd  conjectures,  and 
the  malicious  whispers,  of  their  departing  guests ;  for 
they  had  both  followed  Lucretia,  the  instant  she  left  the 
room.  In  her  chamber  they  found  the  agitated  girl, 
with  her  face  concealed  in  the  pillow,  sobbing,  as  if  the 
rushing  tide  of  feeling  would  burst  the  proud  heart  that 
had  so  long  shut  in  its  waters.  Excitement  may  nerve 
us  with  artificial  strength,  but  springs  wound  too  tightly 
must  either  snap,  or  rebound  with  sudden,  painful  swift- 
ness. 

Miss  Sandford  began  to  sob  out,  "  O,  Lucretia ! "  but 
Governor  Hutchinson  interrupted  her  by  saying,  in  a 
stem  voice,  "  Lucretia  Fitzherbert,  what  do  you  mean 
by  this  disgraceful  conduct  ? " 

His  peremptory  manner  roused  all  the  latent  fire  of 
one,  who  had,  of  late,  been  more  accustomed  to  com- 
mand than  to  obey. 

She  hastily  brushed  away  the  tears,  and  answered, 
with  much  dignity,  "  I  meant,  sir,  to  convince  your 
nephew  that  my  friends  are  not  to  be  wronged,  nor 
myself  insulted,  with  impunity." 

"What  insults,  —  what  wrongs?"  inquired  Hutchin- 
son. 

"  He  broke  his  plighted  faith  to  Grace  Osborne,  sir ; 


THE    REBELS.  247 

and  then  oifered  to  my  wealth  the  heart  he  would  never 
have  given  to  me." 

The  lieutenant  governor  looked  toward  his  sister  for 
an  explanation. 

"  There  was  some  silly  business,  I  believe,"  said  Miss 
Sandford.  "  He  gave  her  a  ring,  or  something  like 
that." 

"And  for  this  you  are  willing  to  have  your  name  a 
by -word  and  a  reproach  among  all  the  British  officers  ? " 
said  the  angry  uncle.  "  For  this  you  have  given  up  an 
alhance  of  which  you  had  so  much  reason  to  be  proud  ? " 

"  I  know  not,  sir,  what  reason  the  house  of  Fitzher- 
bert  have  to  be  proud  of  a  union  with  the  house  of 
Somerville,"  replied  Lucretia,  somewhat  haughtily. 
"  Methinks  their  rent-roll  is  not  as  large,  nor  their 
ancestry  as  noble."  The  high  color  subsided  from  her 
face  as  she  added,  "  But  it  was  not  things  like  these  I 
thought  of.  I  loved  Somerville,  because  I  knew  he  pos- 
sessed exalted  talents,  and  because  I  supposed  that  he 
possessed  stern  integrity,  and  a  high  sense  of  honor.  I 
was  deceived,  —  my  friend  was  injured,  —  and  I  am  ;y 
now  amply  revenged." 

Miss  Sandford  was  seated  during  this  speech,  and 
kept  her  feet  and  head  moving  rapidly,  to  express  her 
impatience  and  indignation.  "  I  see  it  is  nothing  to  you, 
if  my  heart  does  break,"  said  she ;  — "  and  then  to 
think  of  all  this  lost  trouble  and  expense  ! " 

"I  am  sorry  that  you  should  have  taken  so  much 
trouble,  dear  aunt,"  rejoined  Lucretia;  "but  as  for  the 
expense,  there  is  gold  enough  in  my  desk  to  pay  you 
for  ten  such  weddings,  and  it  is  all  your  own." 

"And    this    is   ^^our  gratitude,  is   it,  madam?"   said 


248  THE    REBELS. 

Governor  Hutchinson,  eying  her  with  excessive  displeas- 
ure. "  Lucretia  Fitzherbert,  one  of  two  things  you 
must  do,  —  either  implore  the  colonel's  pardon,  and 
marr}'  him  this  night,  or  quit  my  house  forever." 

"  You  think  more  meanly  of  him  than  I  do,"  answered 
Lucretia,  her  lip  slightly  curling  with  contempt.  "  I  do 
not  believe  he  would  marry  the  daughter  of  Croesus, 
after  she  had  held  his  name  up  to  public  odium,  as  I 
have  done.  My  pardon  he  may  ask,  if  he  chooses  ;  but 
to  him  I  have  no  atonement  to  make.  I  will  not,  how- 
ever, annoy  his  uncle  with  my  presence.  The  heiress 
of  Edmund  Fitzherbert  can  be  at  no  loss  for  a  home." 

She  took  her  cloak,  and  made  a  motion  to  throw  it 
over  her  shoulders.  She  hesitated  one  moment,  and 
melting  into  tears,  threw  herself  on  her  knees  before 
them,  as  she  said,  "  Yet  I  would  not  part  in  anger. 
You  were  both  kind  to  me  when  I  had  no  other  friends ; 
and  there  are  debts  monej?"  can  never  pay.  Bless  me, 
before  I  go." 

"  From  henceforth  we  are  strangers  to  each  other," 
rejoined  Governor  Hutchinson ;  and  without  deigning  to 
bestow  another  word,  he  retired  to  his  o\ati  room. 

"But  5-0U  will.  Aunt  Sandford?"  said  Lucretia,  in  a 
tone  of  entreaty.  "  You  were  ever  kind  to  me  ;"  and  as 
she  spoke,  she  hid  her  head  in  the  matron's  lap,  like  an 
indulged  and  repentant  child. 

Miss  Sandford,  much  affected,  parted  the  ringlets, 
which  had  been  most  carefully  prepared  for  this  eventful 
evening.  "  Only  say,  dear  Lucretia,  that  you  will 
marry  him,"  whispered  she. 

"  ]Marry  him ! "  exclaimed  Lucretia,  rising  indignantly. 


THE    REBELS.  249 

"  I  would  as  soon  marry  my  footman,  —  ay,  sooner ;  for 
he  has  some  nobility  of  soul  about  him." 

"  Then  I  cannot,  and  I  will  not  say,  God  bless  you," 
replied  the  offended  maiden. 

Lucretia  watched  her  as  she  stall^ed  out  of  the  apart- 
ment in  high  displeasure,  —  and  her  soul,  ever  rapid  and 
vehement  in  its  changes,  sprung  back  elastic  from  the 
momentary  touch  of  remorse. 

"  A  Fitzherbert  is  not  to  be  twice  insulted  ! "  said  she ; 
and  calling  for  her  servants,  she  ordered  one  to  pack  a 
trunk  of  clothes,  and  another  to  ask  Governor  Hutchin- 
son if  the  carriage  might  be  ordered  to  Queen-street. 
Answer  was  returned  that  anything  which  might  facili- 
tate Miss  Fitzherbert's  departure  was  entirely  at  her 
service.  Lucretia  bit  her  lip  at  this  instance  of  civil 
rudeness ;  but  she  concealed  her  resentment,  and  merely 
said  to  the  servant,  "  Bring  the  horses  to  the  back  door, 
Richard ;  and  avoid  the  main  street." 

The  fear  of  meeting  Colonel  Fitzherbert  in  his  present 
exasperated  state,  or  of  encountering  the  curious  gaze  of 
some  lingering  remnant  of  the  wedding  party,  occasioned 
these  orders. 

Could  the  crowd  have  that  night  discovered  the  won- 
derful particulars  with  which  all  Boston  rung  for  weeks 
after,  Lucretia  would  unquestionably  have  found  the 
popular  excitement  very  troublesome,  during  her  short 
ride. 

Many,  who  from  the  neighboring  streets  had  wit- 
nessed the  commencement  of  this  gala  scene,  had  deeply 
and  bitterly  reproached  the  American  girl  who  could  find 
it  in  her  heart  to  bestow  an  immense  fortune  on  one  of 
the  hateful  oppressors  of  her  native  country ;  and  could 


250  THE    REBELS. 

they  have  known  how  ingeniously  the  haughty  Briton 
had  been  humbled,  they  would  have  drawn  her  carriage 
in  triumph. 

As  it  was,  however,  everj^body  had  gone  to  their 
homes,  lost  in  conjecture  and  amazement.  The  streets 
were  almost  entirely  deserted ;  and  as  Lucretia  and  her 
servants  passed  along,  on  their  way  to  Mr.  Osborne's, 
they  scarcely  noticed  a  human  figure,  save  the  sentinels, 
who,  with  shouldered  arms,  slowly  paced  their  accus- 
tomed rounds. 

Mr.  Osborne  and  his  son  were  the  only  ones  waking 
in  Queen-street,  when  Miss  Fitzherbert  arrived ;  and  it 
may  well  be  believed  that  their  astonishment  almost 
amounted  to  terror,  when  the  exiled  bride  came  into 
their  presence  so  unexpectedly. 

Lucretia,  in  a  tone  of  sportive  authority,  told  them 
they  must  perforce,  without  asking  any  questions,  grant 
a  lodging  to  her  and  her  train  for  several  days ;  —  and 
then,  whispering  to  the  old  gentleman,  she  promised,  as 
soon  as  the  servants  were  disposed  of,  to  tell  him  all. 

Upon  this  hint,  Phoebe  was  called,  a  cheerful  fire 
kindled  in  the  kitchen,  and  all  necessary  arrangements 
speedily  made  for  her  attendants.  As  soon  as  some- 
thing like  quiet  was  restored,  Lucretia  gave  a  brief  out- 
line of  the  events  which  had  recently  passed,  together 
with  the  causes  that  led  to  them. 

The  detail  unfolded  much  that  the  father  and  brother 
had  never  known.  "  I  was  aware  that  Captain  Somer- 
ville  was  much  pleased  with  my  sister's  beauty,"  said 
Henr}^,  "  and  I  saw  too  plainly  how  fast  his  insinuating 
manners  gained  on  her  inexperienced  heart,  but  I  never 
supposed  he  made  a  serious  declaration  of  attachment." 


THE    REBELS.  251 

*'  And  from  some  indications  we  have  noticed,  we 
have  both  suspected  the  cause  of  her  unusual  depres- 
sion," continued  Mr.  Osborne;  "and  though  we  never 
knew  that  he  directly  sought  her  love,  we  could  not  but 
blame  the  vanit\-  that  had  so  thoughtlessly  gratified 
itself,  at  the  expense  of  another's  peace.  I  have  ever 
taught  Grace  to  speak  freely  to  me,  and  I  cannot  but 
wonder  at  her  reserve  on  this  subject." 

"  I  had  cautioned  her  against  Somerville's  mfluence," 
replied  Henrj' ;  "  and  she  well  knew  that  neither  of  us 
trusted  in  his  religious  principles.  Of  late,  I  could  not 
seek  her  confidence — the  painful  subject  too  evidently 
wounded  the  dear  girl." 

When  Lucretia  gave  a  minute  account  of  the  letter, 
the  ring,  and  the  rose,  —  vrhen  she  mentioned  the  false- 
hood that  had  been  told  to  her  at  the  commencement  of 
her  ill-fated  engagement,  and  the  unifomi  course  of  du- 
plicity which  Colonel  Fitzherbert  had  aften\'ard  pursued, 
—  the  good  old  man  never  uttered  one  word  of  reproach 
against  the  wTetched  bemg  who  had  destroyed  the  health 
and  happiness  of  his  only  daughter.  But  when,  in  ani- 
mated terms,  she  told  how  keenly  she  felt  the  wrongs 
her  friend  had  suffered,  and  how  thoroughly  she  despised 
their  author,  Mr.  Osborne  gave  her  a  look  of  speaking 
tenderness,  and  Henr}',  of  most  delighted  admiration. 

Miss  Fitzherbert  had  resolved  not  to  see  Grace  until 
the  ensuing  morning;  but  before  she  retired  to  rest, 
Phoebe  cam.e  with  a  message  from  her  young  lady,  beg- 
ging her  to  look  in  upon  her,  if  she  only  gave  time  to 
say  good-night. 

Lucretia  could  never  deny  anything  to  the  little  beauty; 


252  THE    REBELS. 

but  she  kissed  her  affectionately,  and  said,  "  You  must 
not  talk  to-night ;  indeed,  you  must  not,  dear  Grace." 

"I  will  not,"  she  replied.  " Phcebe  has  told  me  the 
meaning  of  all  this."  She  paused  a  moment,  and  looked 
on  the  full,  round  moon,  which,  through  an  opening  in 
the  curtain,  shed  its  holy  light  on  her  seraphic  counte- 
nance ;  —  then,  pressing  Lucretia's  hand  most  earnestly, 
she  added,  "It  was  alone  for  my  sake,  I  know  ;  but  I  do 
wish  you  could  still  have  loved  and  respected  him.  It 
was  but  one  fault,  Lucretia;  and  the  best  of  us  need 
forgiveness." 

Her  friend  put  her  finger  to  her  lip,  in  signal  of  prohi- 
bition, and  smiling  on  her  with  unutterable  tenderness, 
bade  her  good-night. 

The  next  day.  Doctor  Willard  called,  as  usual ;  and 
finding  that  Grace  had  passed  a  restless  night,  and  was 
then  sleeping,  he  was  about  to  depart ;  but  seeing  Miss 
Fitzherbert  on  the  stairs,  he  sprang  forward,  with  all  the 
ready  frankness  that  characterized  his  manner,  and  clasp- 
ing her  hand  in  both  of  his,  exclaimed,  "  You  are  a  fine, 
noble-spirited  girl.  Miss  Fitzherbert !  I  like  you  for  this 
transaction,  —  by  my  soul,  I  do  ! " 

"  The  best  of  it  all,"  observed  Mr.  Osborne,  stepping 
from  his  library,  "  is,  that  she  has  promised  to  remain 
constantly  with  Grace." 

The  doctor  warmly  congratulated  his  friend  on  so  val- 
uable an  accession  to  his  family,  and  entered  into  a  very 
pleasant  and  animated  conversation;  in  the  course  of 
which,  he  observed  that  Cobnel  Fitzherbert  had  thrown 
vip  his  commission  —  that  the  resignation  had  been  given 
in  to  General  Gage  that  very  morning ;  and  lastly,  that 
Governor  Hutchinson  had  had  one  short  interview  with 


THE    REBELS.  253 

his  nephew,  in  which  the  latter  had  desired  to  have  his 
property  collected  and  sent  on  to  the  south,  whither  he 
had  departed  as  secretly  and  expeditiously  as  possible. 
As  this  information  came  from  Doctor  Byles,  there  was 
every  reason  to  suppose  it  true.  That  reverend  gentle- 
man, however,  gave  them  no  opportunity  to  make  per- 
sonal inquiries.  He  was  highly  indignant  at  what  he 
styled  Lucretia's  absurd  conduct,  and  ever  after  treated 
her  with  extreme  coldness. 

For  reasons  sufficiently  obvious,  this  subject  was  sel- 
dom alluded  to  in  the  domestic  circle  at  Queen-street ; 
and  Lucretia  had  now  no  intercourse  whatever  with 
Governor  Hutchinson's  family ;  nevertheless,  she  heard, 
once  or  twice,  in  the  course  of  the  season,  that  Colonel 
Somerville  (as  he  now  chose  to  be  called)  remained  at 
the  south,  plunged  in  every  excess  of  dissipation, 

22 


CHAPTER    XX. 

The  girl  was  d3'ing.     Youth,  and  beauty,  all 
Men  love,  or  women  boast  of,  was  decaying  ; 
And,  one  by  one,  life's  finest  flowers  did  fall 
Before  the  touch  of  death,  who  seemed  delaying, 
As  though  he  'd  not  the  heart  at  once  to  call 
The  maiden  to  his  home. 

Barry  Cornwall. 

Grace,  agitated  by  these  events,  and  her  slight  form 
daily  becoming  more  shadowy,  seemed  like  a  celestial 
spirit,  which,  having  performed  its  mission  on  earth,  melts 
into  a  misty  wreath,  then  disappears  forever. 

Hers  had  always  been  the  kind  of  beauty  that  is  elo- 
quence, though  it  speaks  not.  The  love  she  inspired 
was  like  that  we  feel  for  some  fair  infant  which  we  would 
fain  clasp  to  our  hearts  in  its  guileless  beauty;  and  when 
it  repays  our  fondness  with  a  cherub  smile,  its  angelic 
influence  rouses  all  there  is  of  heaven  within  the  soul. 
Deep  compassion  was  now  added  to  these  emotions ;  and 
wherever  she  moved,  the  eye  of  pity  greeted  her,  as  it 
would  some  wounded  bird,  nestling  to  the  heart  in  its 
timid  loveliness. 

Every  one  who  knew  her  felt  the  influence  of  her 
exceeding  purity  and  deep  pathos  of  character ;  but  very 
few  had  penetrated  into  its  recesses,  and  discovered  its 
hidden  treasures.  Melody  was  there,  but  it  w^as  too 
plaintive,  too  delicate  in  its  combination,  to  be  produced 


THE    REBELS.  255 

I 

by  an  unskilful  hand.  The  coarsest  minds  felt  its  witch- 
ing effect,  though  they  could  not  define  its  origin; — like 
the  servant,  mentioned  by  Addison,  who  drew  the  bow 
across  every  string  of  her  master's  violin,  and  then  com- 
plained that  she  could  not,  for  her  life,  find  where  the 
tune  was  secreted. 

Souls  of  this  fine  mould  keep  the  fountain  of  love 
sealed  deep  within  its  caverns ;  and  to  one  only  is  access 
ever  granted.  Miss  Osborne's  affection  had  been  tran- 
quil on  the  surface,  but  it  was  as  deep  as  it  was  pure. 
It  was  a  pool  which  had  granted  its  healing  influence  to 
one,  but  could  never  repeat  the  miracle,  though  an  angel 
should  trouble  its  waters. 

Assuredly,  he  that  could  mLx:  death  in  the  cup  of  love 
which  he  offered  to  one'  so  young,  so  fair,  and  so  true, 
was  guilty  as  the  priest  who  administered  poison  in  the 
holy  eucharist. 

Lucretia,  now  an  inmate  of  the  famil}^,  read  to  her, 
supported  her  across  the  chamber,  and  watched  her  brief, 
gentle  slumbers,  with  an  intense  interest,  painfully  tinged 
with  self-reproach.  She  was  the  cause  of  this  premature 
decay,  —  innocent,  indeed,  but  still  the  cause.  Under 
such  circumstances,  the  conscience  is  morbid  in  its  sensi- 
bility, unreasonable  in  its  acuteness:  and  the  smiles 
and  forgiv^eness  of  those  we  have  injured  tear  and  scorch 
it  like  burning  pincers. 

Yet  there  was  one  who  suffered  even  more  than  Lu- 
cretia, though  he  was  never  conscious  of  giving  one 
moment's  pain  to  the  object  of  his  earliest  affection. 
During  the  winter,  every  leisure  moment  which  Doctor 
Willard's  numerous  avocations  allowed  him  was  spent 
in  Miss  Osborne's  sick  chamber;  and  every  tone  —  every 


25G  THE   REBELS. 

look  of  his,  went  to  her  heart  with  a  thrilling  expression, 
that  seemed  to  say,  "Would  I  could  die  for  thee  !  O, 
would  to  God  I  could  die  for  thee  !  " 

Thus  pillowed  on  the  arm  of  friendship,  and  watched 
o.ver  by  the  eye  of  love,  Grace  languidly  awaited  the 
returning  spring;  and  when  May  did  arrive,  wasted  as 
she  was,  she  seemed  to  enjoy  its  pure  breath  and  sunny 
smile.  Alas,  that  the  month  which  dances  around  the 
flowery  earth,  with  such  mirthful  step  and  beaming 
glance,  should  call  so  many  victims  of  consumption  to 
their  last  home ! 

Towards  the  close  of  this  delightful  season,  the  inva- 
lid, bolstered  in  her  chair,  and  surroimded  by  her  affec- 
tionate family,  was  seated  at  the  window,  watching  the 
declining  sun.  There  was  deep  silence  for  a  long  while ; 
as  if  her  friends  feared  that  a  breath  might  scare  the 
flitting  soul  from  its  earthly  habitation.  Henry  and  Lu- 
cre tia  sat  on  either  side,  pressing  her  hands  in  mournful 
tenderness ;  Doctor  Willard  leaned  over  her  chair,  and 
looked  up  to  the  unclouded  sky,  as  if  he  reproached  it 
for  mocking  him  with  brightness ;  and  her  father  watched 
the  hectic  flush  upon  her  cheek,  with  the  firmness  of 
Abraham,  when  he  offered  his  only  son  upon  the  altar. 
O,  how  would  the  heart  of  that  aged  sufferer  have 
rejoiced  within  him,  could  he,  too,  have  exchanged  the 
victim ! 

She  had  asked  Lucretia  to  place  Somerville's  rose  on 
the  window,  beside  her.  One  solitary  blossom  was  on 
it,  and  she  reached  forth  her  weak  hand  to  pluck  it ; 
but  its  leaves  scattered  beneath  her  trembling  touch. 
She  looked  up  to  Lucretia,  with  an  expression  which  her 
friend  could  never   forget, — and  one  cold  tear  slowly 


TTIE    REBELS.  257 

glided  douTi  her  pallid  cheek.  Gently  as  a  mother  kisses 
her  sleeping  babe,  Doctor  Willard  brushed  it  away ;  and, 
turning  hastily  to  conceal  his  quivering  lip,  he  clasped 
Henry's  hand  with  con\'ulsive  energy,  as  he  whispered, 
"  0,  God  of  mercies,  how  willingly  would  I  have  wiped 
all  tears  from  her  eyes  ! " 

There  is  something  peculiarly  impressive  in  manly 
grief.  The  eye  of  woman  overflows  as  readily  as  her 
heart ;  but  when  waters  gush  from  the  rock,  we  feel  that 
they  are  extorted  by  no  gentle  blow. 

The  invalid  looked  at  him  with  affectionate  regret,  as 
if  she  thought  it  a  crime  not  to  love  such  enduring  kind- 
ness ;  and  every  one  present  made  a  powerful  effort  to 
suppress  painful,  suffocating  emotion. 

Lucretia  had  a  bunch  of  purple  violets  fastened  in  her 
girdle,  and,  with  a  forced  smile,  she  placed  them  in  the 
hands  of  her  dying  friend. 

She  looked  at  them  a  moment  with  a  sort  of  abstracted 
attention,  and  an  expression  strangely  unearthly,  as  she 
said,  '-I  have  thought  that  wild-flowers  might  be  the 
alphabet  of  angels,  whereby  they  write  on  hills  and 
fields  mysterious  truths,  which  it  is  not  given  our  fallen 
nature  to  understand.     What  think  you,  dear  father  ?" 

"  I  think,  my  beloved  child,  that  the  truths  we  do 
comprehend  are  enough  to  support  us  through  all  our 
trials." 

The  confidence  of  the  Christian  was  strono-  within 
him,  when  he  spoke  ;  but  he  looked  on  his  dying  daugh- 
ter, the  only  image  of  a  wife  dearly  beloved,  and  nature 
prevailed.  He  covered  his  eyes,  and  shook  his  white 
hairs  mournfully,  as  he  added,  "  God,  in  his  merc}^  grant 


258  THE    REBELS. 

that  we  may  find  them  sufficient  in  this  dreadful  strug- 
gle ! " 

All  was  again  still  —  still,  in  that  chamber  of  death. 
The  birds  sung  as  sweetly  as  if  there  was  no  such  thing 
as  discord  in  the  habitations  of  man ;  and  the  blue  sky 
was  as  bright  as  if  earth  were  a  stranger  to  ruin,  and  the 
human  soul  knew  not  of  desolation.  Twilight  advanced, 
unmindful  that  weeping  eyes  watched  her  majestic  and 
varied  beauty.  The  silvery  clouds  that  composed  her 
train  were  fast  sinking  into  a  gorgeous  column  of  gold 
and  purple.  It  seemed  as  if  celestial  spirits  were  hover- 
ing around  their  mighty  pavilion  of  light,  and  pressing 
the  verge  of  the  horizon  with  their  glittering  sandals. 

Amid  the  rich,  variegated  heaps  of  vapor,  was  one 
spot  of  clear,  bright  cerulean.  The  deeply-colored  and 
heavy  masses  which  surrounded  it  gave  it  the  effect  of 
distance,  so  that  it  seemed  like  a  portion  of  the  inner 
heaven.  Grace  fixed  her  earnest  gaze  upon  it,  as  the 
weary  traveller  does  upon  an  oasis  in  the  desert.  That 
awful  lustre  which  the  soul  beams  forth  at  its  parting 
was  in  her  eye,  as  she  said,  "  I  could  almost  fancy  there 
are  happy  faces  looking  down  to  welcome  me." 

"It  is  very  beautiful,"  said  Lucretia,  in  a  subdued 
tone.  "  It  is  such  a  sky  as  j^ou  used  to  love  to  look  upon, 
dear  Grace." 

"  It  is  such  a  one  as  we  loved,"  she  answered.  "  There 
was  a  time  when  it  would  have  made  me  very  happy ; 
but  —  my  thoughts  are  now  beyond  it." 

Her  voice  grew  faint,  and  there  was  a  quick  gasp, 
as  if  the  rush  of  memory  was  too  powerful  for  her  weak 
frame. 

Doctor  \Yillard  hastily  prepared  a  cordial,  and  offered 


THE    REBELS.  259 

it  to  her  lips.  Those  lips  were  white  and  motionless  ; 
her  long,  fair  eye-lashes  drooped,  but  trembled  not.  He 
placed  his  hand  on  her  side  ;  —  the  heart  that  had  loved 
so  well,  and  endured  so  much,  had  throbbed  its  last. 

With  a  countenance  as  pale  as  the  lifeless  being 
beside  him,  Doctor  Willard  whispered,  "  Your  daughter 
is  dead ! " 

One  deep,  piercing  groan  burst  from  the  bosom  of  the 
bereaved  father ;  and  it  was  echoed  by  a  faint  shriek,  as 
they  all  involuntarily  knelt  beside  the  corpse. 

For  many  minutes,  no  sound  was  uttered  by  an}"  one. 
The  quick,  con^nilsive  motion  of  the  foot,  and  the  hand- 
kerchief, which  rose  and  fell  on  the  throbbing  temples, 
alone  betrayed  the  grief  that  was  storming  within  their 
souls. 

At  length  Mr.  Osborne  arose,  and  observ'ed  that  it  was 
necessary  they  should  leave  the  room. 

Father,  brother,  and  lover,  kissed  that  pale  brow  as 
they  passed.  "Thus,  —  thus  —  dear,  loved  one,  must 
we  part ! "  said  Doctor  Willard  ;  aiid  he  rushed  out  of  the 
house  with  the  swiftness  of  one  goaded  on  by  the  sting 
of  anguish. 

It  was  years  before  he  could  hear  Grace  talked  of 
with  composure.  His  footsteps  were  deeply  marked 
around  her  grave  ;  and  not  even  the  terrible  scenes  in 
which  his  ardent  soul  was  afterward  actively  en^as^ed 
could  drive  her  from  his  memor}'.  A  miniature  was 
copied  from  her  portrait ;  and  when  the  body  of  the 
young  patriot  was  afterv\'ard  buried  on  the  field  of  bat- 
tle, this  valued  relic  was  found  incrusted  in  his  heart's 
blood. 

In  the  ebony  desk  of   the  deceased  w^as  discovered 


260  THE    REBELS. 

"  The  Rape  of  the  Lock,"  which  had  been  the  gift  of 
her  faithless  lover,  during  their  earliest  acquaintance  ; 
the  ring,  which  had  broken  at  their  parting;  and  a 
letter  to  be  delivered  to  him  after  her  death.  It  was  as 
follows :  — 

"  Dear  Frederic  : 

"  If  the  frank  avowal  that  you  are  still  very  dear  to  my 
widowed  heart  requires  any  apology,  let  approaching 
death  be  my  excuse. 

"  Me  thinks  that  my  turf  pillow  will  be  as  down,  if  you 
know  that  my  last  prayer  was  breathed  for  you  —  my 
last  wishes  for  your  happiness.  The  heart  that  you 
once  thought  too  cold,  dearest  Frederic,  has  never  re- 
proached him  that  crushed  it. 

"  I  have  pitied  you,  wept  for  you,  and  prayed  for 
you ;  but  the  ghost  of  our  once  plighted  love  ever  spoke 
to  me  like  a  voice  from  the  tomb  —  and  it  would  not  let 
me  blame  you. 

"  I  do  not  think  you  were  to  me  a  hypocrite.  I  do 
believe  you  loved  me.  But  it  is  not  strange  that  1 
should  have  been  forgotten,  in  the  midst  of  a  busy,  tempt- 
ing world.  The  flower  that  we  pluck  may  be  very  fra- 
grant,—  yet  the  remembrance  of  its  sweetness  passes 
away,  even  before  the  frail  thing  withers ;  —  the  bird's 
wild  note  is  music  to  human  ears,  —  yet  to-morrow  it  is 
as  if  it  had  never  been; — and  woman's  affectionate 
smile  is  even  as  they  are,  in  the  memory  of  man.  But 
she  may  not  thus  forget  her  dream  of  love.  Her  heart 
distils  the  fragrance,  and  echoes  the  sounds  that  are  gone  ^ 
yea,  even  her  very  thoughts  take  root  in  affection.  1 
love  the   books  that  you   have  read  ;  and,  for  your  salce, 


THE    REBELS.  261 

their  ideas  have  become  my  own.  I  cannot,  if  I  Avould, 
escape  from  your  image.  It  is  seated  by  our  fire-side,  — 
it  is  walking  in  our  paths,  —  it  is  stamped  on  everj^page 
I  open. 

"  ^yhen  the  grass  grows  above  my  grave,  and  the 
violet  weeps  and  dies  there,  shall  you  ever  think  of  me  ? 
Yea,  I  know  you  will  think  of  me ;  and  think  of  me, 
too,  as  you  did  on  the  day  we  parted.  Alas !  how  little 
either  of  us  then  thought  it  was  forever  I 

"  Should  you  come  to  look  once  more  upon  scenes 
which  our  short  acquaintance  has  rendered  very  dear  to 
me,  you  will  find  your  rose  blossoming  in  the  window 
where  you  have  so  often  been  seated,  and  the  book  in 
which  you  last  read  to  me  placed  by  its  side.  These 
will  speak  for  her  who  will  then  have  no  voice  to  wel- 
come you ;  and  when  you  ask  the  forgiveness  of  that 
dear,  good  old  man,  whose  gray  hairs  are  going  down  to 
the  grave  in  sorrow,  he  will  say  to  you,  '  As  my  Heav- 
enly Father  forgiveth  me,  even  so  do  I  forgive  you.' 
You  too  will  think  of  God;  and  thus  will  sorrow  lose  its 
sting.  You  will  not  weep  such  bitter,  scalding  tears,  as 
I  did  when  I  was  first  deserted  ;  but  you  will  think  of 
me  with  a  gentle  sigh,  and  my  spirit  will  hover  near, 
and  whisper,  '  We  meet  in  heaven.'     Farewell. 

"Grace  Osborne." 

We  will  not  attempt  to  portray  the  sorrow  that  per- 
vaded ]\Ir.  Osborne's  desolate  home.  The  painter,  called 
upon  to  represent  a  father's  grief,  despaired  of  success, 
and  wisely  shrouded  the  con-vulsed  features  in  a  m.antle. 

Honest  Dudley  and  his  wife  were  the  only  ones  who 
were  loud  and  boisterous  in  their  lamentations ;  but  the 


262  THE    REBELS. 

peculiar  circumstances  of  Miss  Osborne's  death  excited 
universal  interest ;  and  the  sternest  nerves  quivered  when 
the  lifeless  remains  of  so  much  loveliness  were  lowered  in 
the  ground.  The  event,  no  doubt,  produced  much  greater 
sensation,  on  account  of  political  fermentation.  She 
whom  they  followed  to  the  grave  was  the  only  daughter 
of  a  man  that  had  ever  firmly  vindicated  the  rights  of 
America ;  and  she  had  been  cut  down,  in  the  full  bloom 
of  youth  and  beauty,  by  the  cruelty  of  a  haughty  for- 
eigner—  a  pampered  connection  of  Hutchinson  —  an 
insolent  military  oppressor.  Some  urged  Mr.  Osborne  to 
seek  redress  for  his  WTongs ;  others  talked  loudly  of 
revenge ;  but  the  soul  of  the  old  man  was  sick  within 
him,  and  he  would  turn  away  from  them  with  loathing, 
and,  in  the  privacy  of  his  own  closet,  he  would  pour  forth 
his  sorrows  to  the  God  who  heareth  prayer. 

Governor  Hutchinson  had  great  kindness  of  feeling, 
though  it  had  been  too  much  chilled  by  ambition  and 
avarice.  This  sad  catastrophe  was  sudden  to  him,  and 
it  affected  him  deeply.  Madam  Sandford,  too,  forgot  all 
her  disappointed  schemes,  in  unfeigned  contrition  for 
the  prejudices  she  had  indulged.  The  result  of  all  this 
was  a  long  letter  from  Governor  Hutchinson,  thanking 
Lucretia  for  various  munificent  presents,  conjuring  her  to 
return  to  them,  and  begging  forgiveness  for  the  hasty 
resentment  which  had  separated  them  from  one  they 
loved  so  much. 

When  Miss  Fitzherbert  showed  this  epistle  to  Mr. 
Osborne,  he  drew  her  affectionately  to  his  bosom,  and 
said,  "  You  shall  do  just  as  your  heart  dictates,  my  dear 
child.  Yet,  for  her  sake,  you  are  dear  to  me  as  a  daugh- 
iev;  and  who  shall  bathe  the  old  man's  throbbing  head, 


THE    REBELS.  263 

or  smooth  his  pillow,  when  you  are  away?  Above  all, 
who  shall  talk  to  me  of  her  that  is  gone,  and  give  relief 
to  the  troubled  soul  by  sharing  all  its  griefs  ? " 

"  You  still  have  Henry  left,  my  dear  sir,"  replied 
Lucretia,  with  a  tearful  smile. 

"  True ;  and  the  blessing  of  heaven  will  rest  on  that 
dutiful  son  and  affectionate  brother;  but  the  voice  of 
woman  soothes  the  mourner,  and  the  cordial  is  more 
healing  when  prepared  by  her  hand.  Nevertheless,  as 
you  will,  dear  friend  of  my  beloved  daughter.  Wher- 
ever you  are,  my  affection  and  my  blessing  will  rest 
upon  you." 

Lucretia  kissed  away  a  tear  before  it  had  time  to  fall, 
and  immediately  answered  the  benefactors  of  her  youth, 
by  saying,  that  her  love  and  gratitude  had  never  abated 
—  that  she  should  think  much  of  them,  and  visit  them 
often;  but  that  her  heart  was  weary  of  splendor  — that 
she  loved  the  quiet  home  of  Mr.  Osborne,  and  thought  it 
her  duty  to  remain  with,  him  during  the  remainder  of  his 
pilgrimage. 

,^  .it,  44.  ^  J.*>.  ^i. 

-7v*  V7*  •TO-  'TV'  '/O-  'TV- 

A  bo  at  three  weeks  after  Grace's  farewell  letter  was 
despatched  to  Somerville's  supposed  residence,  a  j'oung 
man,  wild  and  hurried  in  his  manner,  called  upon  the 
sexton,  and  requested  the  key  of  Mr.  Osborne's  tomb. 
With  weak,  irregular  steps,  he  entered  that  house  of 
death,  and  raised  the  lid  of  the  coffin  last  placed  there. 
Convulsed  and  shuddering,  he  started  back  !  The  imag- 
ination shrinks  from  mortal  decay,  yet  it  conveys  a  moral 
which  beauty  should  remember. 

The  stranger  dared  not  trust  himself  with  another 
look.     He  leaned  on  the  coffin,  for  a  few  minutes,  as  if 


264  THE   REBELS. 

Utterly  unconscious  of  existence.  Not  a  sigh,  not  a  tear, 
relieved  the  bursting  anguish  of  his  heart.  His  eye 
accidentally  rested  on  the  inscription  : 

"  Grace  Osborne ;  aged  19.  Departed  this  life  May 
27th,  1769." 

He  sprang  for^vard,  as  if  an  adder  stung  him,  and 
throwing  himself  on  the  ground,  clasped  the  sod  to  his 
forehead,  as  if  to  cool  its  burning  agony.  It  was  here 
that  the  sexton  found  him ;  and  after  a  tedious  effort,  he 
persuaded  him  to  lean  on  his  arm,  and  suffer  himself  to 
be  led  to  a  neighboring  hotel.  The  next  day  he  was 
gone.  He  had  sought  acquaintance  with  no  one,  and 
no  one  knew  his  name  ;  but  he  was  always  supposed  to 
be  Frederic  Somerville  Fitzherbert. 

Four  weeks  after  this  mysterious  visit,  the  Baltimore 
paper  announced  that  a  young  man  had  died  at  the 
King's  Head  Tavern,  in  a  high  fever,  and  very  delirious. 
A  postscript  added,  that  letters  were  found  among  his 
papers,  some  directed  to  Captain  Frederic  Somervdlle, 
and  others  to  Colonel  Frederic  S.  Fitzherbert. 

Governor  Hutchinson  immediately  repaired  thither. 
The  nephew  of  whom  he  had  once  been  so  proud  had 
indeed  fallen  a  victun  to  his  ovni  fluctuating  principles, 
and  misguided  feelings. 

A  will  was  found,  in  which  his  small  property,  con- 
sisting of  about  two  thousand  pounds,  was  left  to  Henry 
Osborne.  In  this  document  was  enclosed  the  following 
fragment :  — 

"Much  Injured  Friend: 

"  Your  sweet  sister  is  dead  !  Well,  I  shall  not  long 
survive  her.     No  matter  what  I  think  of; — I  have  hor- 


THE    REBELS.  265 

rible  thoughts  sometimes:  but  I  shall  not  long  survive 
her.  What  money  I  have,  I  will  leave  to  you.  It  is 
the  only  atonement  that  I  can  now  make,  for  all  my 
errors  —  all  my  cruelty.  I  have  plunged  into  dissipa- 
tion ;  but  the  glance  of  beauty  has  made  me  writhe  in 
agony.  I  have  looked  on  where  others  were  happy ;  but 
at  my  approach,  ever}"  bud  of  joy  withered.  I  am  the 
branded  outcast  of  heaven.  Every  eye  glances  at  me  in 
hatred.  I  know  not  what  I  write.  Sense,  memor}", 
ever}"thing,  lies  buried  in  that  cold,  distant  grave.  I 
wish  I  could  pray, — but  my  stubborn  knee  will  not  bend, 
and  my  proud  heart  rises  in  defiance  of  Almighty  power. 
From  His  eye,  I  cannot  flee, — and  it  frowns  upon  me 
in  tremendous  wrath.  .  I  carry  my  hell  within  me  ! " 

^ii,  .ii.  Ji,  J/,  .AA,  JA. 

•TC*  -77'  'TV'  'Tf'  •TC'  VP" 

Here  this  wild  epistle  broke  suddenly  off.  Miss 
Osborne's  letter  was  found  among  his  papers;  but 
whether  he  had  received  it  before  this  was  wTitten, 
and  whether  it  soothed  or  maddened  him,  seemed  wholly 
uncertain.  Those  whom  he  had  so  deeply  injured 
wept,  when  they  heard  of  his  death.  If  he  had  sinned, 
he  had  likewise  suffered ;  and  the  grave  covers  all. 

Among  his  papers  was  a  journal,  which,  in  many 
places,  betrayed  a  willingness  to  return  to  the  object  of 
his  first  affection,  and  a  thorough  conviction  that  it  would 
be  entirely  useless. 

In  one  place,  he  mentioned  Lucretia,  —  said  she  had 
treated  him  as  he  deserv^ed, — that  he  had  ceased  to 
breathe  her  name  with  curses,  and  that  his  respect  and 
kind  \vishes  would  ever  follow  her. 

It  is  not  in  the  nature  of  man  to  stand  at  the  grave, 
23 


266  THE    REBELS. 

even  of  an  enemy,  and  hate  the  handful  of  dust  that 
lies  beneath  him ;  and,  oh,  how  bitterly  do  we  remember 
any  pain  we  may  have  given  those  we  once  loved,  what- 
ever was  the  provocation  ! 

All  the  wrongs  Lucretia  had  endured  were  forgotten. 
She  only  remembered  her  youthful  lover,  splendid  in  his 
talents,  ardent  and  generous  in  his  feelings. 

"Were  he  but  alive,"  thought  she,  "I  could  welcome 
even  insult  from  his  lips, — nay,  kneel  to  thank  him  for 
one  look, — though  that  look  were  hatred !  " 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

The  time  is  coming  now,  and  the  weird  's  dree'd,  and  the  wheel 's 
turning.  —  Guy  Mannering. 

The  hatred  that  subsisted  between  the  citizens  of  Bos- 
ton, and  the  troops  sent  to  compel  them  to  submission, 
grew  every  da}'  more  rancorous.  There  seemed  likely 
to  be  no  end  to  insults,  abuses,  and  petty  stratagems  of 
malice.  At  length,  a  soldier  having  received  a  blow 
from  some  one  of  the  lower  orders  of  people,  implicated 
his  companions  in  the  quarrel.  This  led  to  new  and 
repeated  vexations ;  and  on  the  fifth  of  March,  1770,  the 
populace,  exasperated  beyond  further  endurance,  armed 
themselves  with  clubs,  and  ran  to  King-street,  shouting, 
"Drive  out  the  rascals!  they  are  not  fit  to  breathe  the 
air  of  a  free  countr\' ! " 

The  sentinel  at  the  barracks  called  out  the  guard  to 
his  assistance  ;  and  had  they  not  been  restrained  by  their 
officers,  they  would  have  rushed  on  the  citizens  with 
furious  slausfhter. 

"  Stand  back  I  and  form  a  line  I "  said  Captain 
Preston,  waving  his  sword  as  he  spoke ;  and  obedient  to 
militar}'  orders,  they  formed  one  long,  firm  phalanx,  and 
stood  as  motionless  as  pieces  of  ancient  armor. 

Infuriated  by  the  cahn  contempt  which  this  stillness 
indicated,  the  multitude  rushed  on  to  the  ver)'  points  of 
their  bayonets. 


268  THE    REBELS. 

"Fire,  cowards!  fire!"  was  the  general  shout. 

"Ay,  spill  blood!"  cried  the  shrill  voice  of  Molly 
Bradstreet,  who  was  at  that  moment  towering  along  the 
side-walk.  "Spill  blood,  red  from  the  hearts  of  your 
brethren; — but  do  it  at  your  peril!  You  '11  live  to  see 
it  fearfully  avenged !  " 

"Hush,  woman, — hush,  for  Heaven's  sake!"  ex- 
claimed John  Dudley;  "there  will  be  horrid  work  here, 
before  the  sun  goes  down." 

"  The  villains  lack  courag-e  to  fire  on  freemen ! " 
answered  she,  in  her  loudest  and  most  insulting  tones. 

"  Yes,  they  dare  not !  they  dare  not ! "  was  echoed  by 
the  crowd. 

A  deep,  half-smothered  sound  of  \\'Tath  ran  along  the 
troops ;  and  an  instant  after  the  fatal  words  were  spoken, 
a  volley  of  musketry  rent  the  air.  The  clashing  of 
clubs  and  ba5^onets,  the  loud  rolling  of  drums,  the  violent 
din  of  bells,  the  screams,  the  imprecations,  the  curses, 
and  the  bowlings  of  the  multitude,  were  terrible  beyond 
all  description ;  yet,  even  above  them  all,  might  be  dis- 
tinguished the  piercing  shrieks  of  the  wounded,  and  the 
groans  of  those  who  grasped  the  earth  in  their  last,  mor- 
tal agony. 

The  witch,  to  whose  mysterious  conduct  we  have  so 
often  alluded,  was  among  the  number  of  the  dying. 
There  she  lay,  upon  the  cold,  slippery  earth,  looking  up- 
ward with  an  intense  expression  of  pain, — her  bright 
red  cardinal  fluttering  at  her  side,  like  the  outspread 
banner  of  a  fallen  chieftain.  In  a  most  imploring  voice, 
she  called  out,  "Wherever  Lucretia  Fitzherbert  is,  carry 
me  there !  oh,  carry  me  there  ! "  Honest  John  Dudley 
heard  the  name  she  mentioned,  and  drew  near  to  under- 


THE    REBELS.  269 

Stand  the  nature  of  her  request;  but  as  he  stooped  to 
listen,  a  ball  grazed  his  ear,  and  sunk  deep  into  his 
shoulder.  Staggering,  he  fell  back,  and  his  head  rested 
on  the  wounded  side  of  the  expiring  woman. 

The  discordant  uproar  increased ;  the  clang  of  bells 
grew  louder  and  louder ;  the  heavy  tramp  of  horses 
mingled  with  the  vociferations  of  the  mob ;  and  Hutch- 
inson was  heard  expostulating  with  the  soldiers,  at  the 
very  top  of  his  voice. 

"  How  dared  you  fire  without  orders  ?  "   said  he. 

"  Because  we  would  not  brook  the  insolence  of  these 
low-born  rebels,"  was  the  reply. 

The  fierce  altercation  died  away  upon  the  ears  of  the 
two  unfortunate  beinsfs  we  have  mentioned.  How  long- 
they  remained  insensible,  they  knew  not;  but  when  they 
recovered,  Doctor  Willard  was  standing  over  them,  bind- 
ing up  their  wounds. 

The  first  words  the  woman  uttered  were,  "  Fitzher- 
bert  I  Fitzherbert !     "Will  nobody  axTry  me  there  ?  " 

In  compliance  with  her  request,  she  was  placed  on  one 
of  the  litters,  which  had  been  hastily  prepared,  and 
conveyed  to  Queen-street. 

Henry  Osborne  had,  on  the  first  alami,  joined  the  vast 
multitude  collected  in  King's-street ;  but  his  father,  at 
Lucretia's  earnest  request,  had  remained  at  home,  listen- 
ing to  the  distant  tumult  with  the  most  intense  anxiety. 
"When  he  saw  the  litter  stop  before  his  door,  he  ran  out, 
and  eagerly  inquired,  "  Is  it  Henrj^  ?  Is  it  my  only  son  ? 
Has  he  gone,  too  ?  " 

"  No  my  dear  sir,"  answered  Doctor  Willard ;  "  it  is 
a  poor  crazy  woman,  who  has  fallen  a  victim  to  this 
accursed  soldier^-." 

23=* 


270  THE    REBELS. 

"  O,  what  a  scene  of  horrors  is  this !  "  rejoined  Mr. 
Osborne.  "  I  knew  it  must  be  so,  but  I  little  thought 
my  old  eyes  would  live  to  see  it." 

"  YeSj  the  blow  is  struck,"  said  Doctor  Willard ;  "and 
the  wound  wall  fester  long,  before  it  heals.  The  rascals 
say  we  dare  not  fight.  By  Heaven,  I  hope  I  shall  die 
up  to  my  knees  in  blood  !  " 

While  this  brief  conversation  took  place  between  the 
gentlemen,  the  wounded  w^oman  was  removed  from  the 
litter  to  a  bed  prepared  for  her  reception.  Doctor  Wil- 
lard, after  careful  examination,  gave.it  as  his  opinion, 
that  if  the  ball  were  speedily  extracted,  her  life  might 
possibly  be  saved. 

"It  is  better  otherwise,"  said  the  wretched  woman, 
casting  a  searching  glance  around  the  apartment;  "  but 
will  she  not  come  to  see  me  die  ?  " 

Lucretia  entered  just  as  she  finished  speaking,  bring- 
ing with  her  some  cordial  she  had  been  preparing.  The 
sufferer  raised  her  withered  hands,  and  looked  upward 
with  an  expression  of  fervent  gratitude. 

"  Send  them  all  a-^vay,"  w^hispered  she,  as  Lucretia 
offered  her  the  cup  ;  "  I  have  somewhat  to  say  to  you." 

As  soon  as  her  wish  was  intimated,  the  physician  and 
the  servants  withdrew;  and  even  before  the  door  had 
closed,  she  clasped  Lucretia's  hand  in  hers,  pressed  it  to 
her  lips,  and  kissed  it  again  and  again,  with  frantic  joy. 
"  I  had  not  hoped  to  die  thus,"  she  said.  "  I  have  lived, 
sinned,  and  suffered  alone  ;  and  even  thus  did  I  think  to 
depart." 

Miss  Fitzhcrbert  would  have  taken  this  for  the  ravings 
of  insanity,  —  but  the  remark  she  had  heard  her  make 
on  her  w^ay  to  Hollis-street  church,  the  day  Mr.  Whit- 


THE    REBELS.  271 

field  preached  there ;  her  conduct  at  Mr.  Wilson's  fune- 
ral ;  and  her  emotions  when  viewing  the  portrait,  formed 
a  strange  and  puzzling  coincidence. 

"  Poor  woman,"  said  she,  "  what  can  occasion  the 
interest  you  take  in  me  ? " 

The  invalid  looked  up  as  if  imploring  from  her  that 
compassion  and  tenderness  which  the  rest  of  the  world 
denied  her.  "  Could  you,"  said  she,  "  endure  the  thought 
that  you  were  related  to  such  an  outcast  in  creation  as  I 
am?" 

"  I  could  welcomie  anything  to  my  heart  that  was 
connected  with  a  mother  I  have  been  taught  to  love  and 
respect,"  replied  Lucretia. 

"  O,  Lucretia  Fitzherbert ! "  rejoined  this  mysterious 
being,  "  may  the  end  of  3'our  pilgrimage  be  more  cheer- 
ful than  mine  has  been.  It  is  a  sore  thing  to  the  heart 
to  live  in  this  wide  world,  and  know  there  is  not  a  single 
soul  cares  when  or  how  you  leave  it.  To  feel  that  those 
for  whom  you  would  sacrifice  life  and  limb  —  yea,  heart 
and  soul  —  would  consider  you  as  a  blot  upon  their  fair 
name,  —  a  vile  weight  to  sink  them  into  the  mire  of 
poverty  and  shame  !  You  will  hate  me,  —  you  will  hate 
me ! " 

"Had  you  no  children?"  inquired  Lucretia,  in  a  tone 
of  heartfelt  pity. 

"  I  had.     Your  mother  was  my  child." 

"  But,"  said  Lucretia,  in  a  faltering  voice,  "  my 
mother  and  Gertrude  May  were  not  sisters  ? " 

"No,  they  were  not.  But  3-ou  have  not  a  drop  of 
Fitzherbert  blood  in  your  veins."  She  covered  her  eyes 
with  both  her  hands,  as  she  spoke,  as  if  she  feared  to  see 
the  effect  her  tidings  produced. 


272  THE    REBELS. 

Lucretia  was,  for  an  instant,  deadly  pale ;  and  she 
grasped  her  grandmother's  arm  in  a  manner  that 
expressed,  more  plainly  than  words  could  have  done, 
the  intensity  of  her  feelings,  the  eagerness  of  her 
curiosity. 

"  I  must,"  said  the  old  woman,  attempting  to  rise,  but 
wi'i thing  with  pain,  as  she  again  fell  back  upon  the  pil- 
low, "  I  must  tell  my  crime  while  I  have  the  strength. 
Time  is  precious  now ;  for  never  will  these  old  eyes  wit- 
ness the  rising  of  another  sun.  Matilda  Howe  and  my 
Gertrude  were  companions.  She  married  Captain  Fitz- 
herbert,  about  the  same  time  that  Harry  Wilson  said  he 
married  Gertrude.  I  was  not  in  Halifax  at  that  -period. 
I  always  had  a  wandering,  restless  spirit,  after  my  hus- 
band left  me ;  —  but  I  learned  afterward  that  Wilson 
was  jealous  of  the  captain ;  and  — "  she  drew  her 
breath  hard  as  she  spoke  —  "  there  was  some  dreadful 
business." 

■4i-  •H'  ■ilr  •Alf  ■it'  -it- 

•TT'  "TP  T^  W  TF  •?? 

"  I  took  you  from  my  dying  daughter,  when  you  were 
six  weeks  old,  and  went  to  pour  forth  my  griefs  to  the 
kind-hearted  Mrs.  Fitzherbert.  She  was  sick  with  a 
fever,  and  the  babe  that  is  now  Mrs.  Percival  lay 
sleeping  in  her  cradle.  God  forgive  me  for  the  wicked 
deed !  Trouble  had  shattered  my  poor  mind ;  but  I  was 
an  ambitious  woman,  to  the  last.  The  daughter  of 
Captain  Fitzherbert,  I  thought,  would  be  rich  and 
respectable ;  but  who  could  tell  what  would  become  of 
Harry  Wilson's  poor  child.  Satan  tempted  me,  —  and 
I  yielded.  You  are  Gertrude  Wilson.  Can  you  forgive 
m.e?" 

She  spoke  in  accents  hurried  and    frantic,  occasion- 


THE    REBELS.  273 

ally  interrupted  by  violent  spasms.  Lucretia  could  not 
look  upon  the  poor  wretch  with  anything  like  resent- 
ment ;  but  a  consciousness  of  degradation,  and  shame  for 
the  gross  imposture  that  had  been  practised,  troubled 
and  confused  her  mind,  —  and  she  wept  in  silence. 

"  I  knew^  it  would  be  so  !  "  said  the  old  woman,  burst- 
ing into  tears.  "  I  knew  you  could  not  forgive  me  for 
telling  you  the  unwelcome  tidings  ;  —  but,  oh,  my  child, 
it  was  a  hea\'y  weight,  and  I  could  not  cany^  it  down 
to  my  grave.  No  other  mortal  is  privy  to  it ;  and  the 
secret  which  pride  has  kept  so  long  death  w^ill  keep  for- 
ever. You  need  not  be  disgraced  in  the  eye  of  the 
world." 

"  I  do  not  mourn  that  you  have  told  me  now,"  replied 
Lucretia ;  "  but  that  3'ou  had  not  told  me  years  before. 
It  is  dreadful  to  think  that  I  have  wTonged  another, 
and  that  all  my  honors  and  enjoyments  have  been  the 
fruits  of  deception.  But  let  that  pass  away.  I  will 
atone  for  it,  and  never  remember  it  against  you,  my 
grandmother." 

"  0,  that  I  should  ever  live  to  hear  that  blessed 
sound!"  said  the  aged  woman.  "Eaise  up  my  head; 
let  me  look  at  you,  and  die  in  your  arms." 

Lucretia  did  as  she  desired,  and  in  the  depth  of  her 
pity,  she  even  imprinted  a  kiss  on  the  wTinkled  forehead 
of  one  whose  guilt  and  sufferings  had  all  been  for  her 
sake.  "But  m}^  mother  —  vras  she  murdered?"  said 
she,  in  a  shuddering  tone. 

"Your  father  confessed  it  on  his  death-bed;  but 
Gertrude  made  me  believe  she  died  of  an  accidental 
wound.     The  heart  of  woman  is  a  stransfe  thinir.     It 


274  THE    REBELS. 

will  live  for  years  on  the  remembrance  of  kindness ;  and 
like  a  lamb,  it  Avill  fondle  upon  the  hand  that  stabs  it." 

"And  my  father?  Did  you  see  him  afterward,  till 
the  day  he  died  ? " 

"  Once  he  came  to  my  old  hut,  at  the  foot  of  Rattle- 
snake Hill,  to  have  his  fortune  told.  I  learned  the  black 
art  of  a  Scotch  woman.  I  don't  know  whether  there 
was  anything  in  it,  but  things  would  sometimes  come  to 
pass  as  my  books  foretold.  There  was  nobody  in  the 
world  to  love  me,  and  so  I  had  a  mind  they  should  fear 
me ;  and  it  was  pleasant  enough  to  see,  how  strong  as 
well  as  weak  were  slaves  to  my  power. 

"  Your  father  had  been  gone  many  a  long  year, 
nobody  knew  where ;  and  well  I  guessed  for  no  good 
purpose.  I  laiew  him  at  first  sight,  for  hatred  has  a 
memory  like  love.  I  knew,  by  his  actions,  that  he  was 
the  murderer  of  my  child.  I  said  I  would  be  revenged, 
and  I  had  it  in  my  heart  to  kill  him ;  but  he  was  your 
father,  and  I  could  not  go  through  Avith  it." 

Here  the  invalid  seemed  exliausted  with  the  extreme 
exertion  she  had  made;  and  Lucretia,  alarmed  at  the 
rapid  changes  in  her  countenance,  hastened  to  call  the 
physician.  "  Say  one  thing  before  you  go,"  exclaimed 
the  old  woman ;  "  lest,  when  you  come  back,  I  should  not 
have  ears  to  hear  it.  I  have  been  a  poor,  wronged,  half- 
crazed,  and  furious  creature ;  but  I  am  calm  now ;  and  I 
shall  soon  be  calmer  still.  I  have  staid  awa}^  from  you 
months  and  years,  in  my  solitary  pilgrimage,  because 
I  would  not  come  among  your  proud  friends  to  disgrace 
you ;  but  love  was  sometimes  too  strong  for  me,  and  I 
would  plod  many  a  weary  mile  but  to  look  on  you,  and 


THE    REBELS.  275 

hear  the  sound  of  your  voice.  Can  you  forgive  your  old 
grandmother  ? " 

"  I  do,  I  do,"  repHed  Lucretia.  She  was  about  to  add 
that  she  hoped  she  would  yet  live  many  years,  happy 
and  respectable ;  but  an  unbidden  feeling  rose  up  to  pre- 
vent her  utterance ;  and  surely,  in  one  whose  pride  of 
rank  had  been  so  peculiarly  fostered  by  education  and 
circumstances,  this  tinofe  of  the  world's  vanitv"  miofht  be 
forgiven. 

When  Miss  Fitzherbert  descended  to  the  parlor,  she 
was  startled  to  find  the  doctor  engaged  in  fastening  a 
bandage  around  Henry's  arm.  "It  is  a  mere  trifle," 
said  young  Osborne,  inwardly  rejoicing  at  the  injury 
which  had  procured  him  such  a  look  of  anxious  aflec- 
tion.  "  Father  has  gone  up  to  see  honest  Dudley,  who 
has  a  far  worse  wound;  bat  the  doctor  says  he  will 
recover." 

"  Yes,  he  will  do  well  enough,"  replied  Willard ;  '•  and 
if  all  the  country  were  made  of  such  stubborn  stuff  as  he 
is,  we  should  soon  gaze  at  the  stems  of  those  infernal 
war-ships,  and  see  the  last  blush  of  the  red-cross  flag 
upon  our  waters." 

"  The  time  will  come,"  said  Hen^}^  "  The  land  is 
wide  awake,  and  the  good  cause  gains  ground." 

"  True,"  rejoined  the  doctor ;  "  even  Miss  Lucretia 
Fitzherbert  has  become  a  proselyte ;  and  surely  she 
would  not,  without  powerful  reasons.'' 

Lucretia  blushed  deeply.  "I  told  you,"  said  she, 
"  that  the  poor  woman  above  stairs  is  ver}^  weak. 
Lideed,  you  must  go  to  her.  I  will  take  care  of  ]Mr. 
Osborne's  arm." 

"You  had  better  take  good  care  of  it,  —  for  the  right 


276  THE    REBELS. 

hand  is  on  it,  you  know,"  said  the  doctor,  with  a  very 
sly  glance,  as  he  closed  the  door  after  him. 

Though  Henry  had  said  his  wound  was  so  very  slight, 
he  now  began  to  think  it  necessary  for  his  kind  nurse  to 
examine  it,  and  tighten  the  bandages;  then  it  was  a 
long  time  before  the  handkerchief  which  supported  it 
was  rightly  adjusted ;  and  no  doubt  he  would  have  resort- 
ed to  a  thousand  other  artifices,  to  secure  the  presence 
and  attentions  of  a  beloved  object,  had  not  Lucretia  very 
decidedly  said  she  must  return  to  the  sick  stranger,  and 
leave  Phoebe  in  attendance  upon  him. 

She  met  Doctor  Willard,  just  leaving  the  chamber. 
"It  is  all  over  with  the  poor  old  creature,"  said  he.  "I 
feared  she  would  die  as  soon  as  the  wound  was  opened." 

The  physician  did  not  know  how  to  account  for  the 
agitation  which  this  news  produced.  It  did,  indeed, 
bring  relief  to  Lucretia's  mind  to  know  that  the  unhappy 
being  had  gone  beyond  the  reach  of  earthly  suffering, 
and  that  the  shame  of  such  a  connection  was  spared  her ; 
but  this  feeling  was  deeply  mingled  with  self-reproach. 
Had  she  lived,  no  sympathy  could  possibly  have  existed 
between  them ;  yet  it  seemed  very  heartless  to  rejoice 
at  the  death  of  one  to  whom  she  was  so  nearly  allied  by 
nature.  To  feel  that  we  ought  to  give  our  affections 
where  it  is  utterly  out  of  our  power,  is  painful  indeed ; 
and  if  we  fail  from  the  impossibility,  it  is  long  before  our 
own  hearts  excuse  it. 

The  day  following  these  melancholy  occurrences,  the 
citizens  met  together,  and,  after  a  short  consultation,  sent 
a  message  to  the  lieutenant  governor,  signifying  that 
there  was  everj^thing  to  fear,  from  the  excited  state  of 
the  populace ;  and  that  the  army  must  be  removed  from 


tHE    REBELS.  277 

Boston,  without  delay.  Governor  Hutchinson  had  had 
sufficient  proof  of  the  spirits  he  had  to  deal  with ;  accord- 
ingly, he  gave  orders  that  the  troops  should  immediately 
embark  for  Castle  William.  Not  satisfied  with  this 
atonement  for  the  injuries  they  had  suffered,  the  inhab- 
itants resolved  to  express  their  indignation,  sorrow  and 
compassion,  by  celebrating  the  obsequies  of  the  slain,  in 
the  most  public  and  honorable  manner.  True,  none  of 
them  were  much  superior  to  the  miserable  woman  whose 
strange  story  had  produced  such  an  unexpected  change 
in  the  prospects  of  Lucretia  Fitzherbert ;  but  they  were 
fellow-citizens,  slaughtered  by  the  hand  of  violence  and 
oppression.  On  the  morning  of  the  8th,  business  was 
universally  suspended,  many  of  the  windows  were  hung 
with  black,  and  all  the  bells  of  Boston,  Charlestown  and 
Roxbury,  joined  in  one  funeral  toll.  Long  files  of  car- 
riasfes  and  horses,  followed  bv  an  immense  train  on  foot, 
were  seen  winding  their  way  toward  King-street,  where 
the  multitude  of  human  heads  seemed  like  the  waves  of 
the  ocean,  making  the  brain  dizzy  with  their  numbers. 
Thus  was  the  mother  of  Gertrude  May  conveyed  to  her 
last  home. 

When  the  fraud  which  had  placed  Lucretia  in  the 
possession  of  rank  and  fortune  was  first  disclosed  to  her, 
it  seemed  like  some  bewildered  dream.  The  more  she 
thought  on  the  subject,  the  more  the  value  of  what  she 
was  about  to  lose  increased  in  her  estimation.  It  must 
be  confessed,  she  was  sorely  tempted  to  conceal  the  dis- 
graceful truth ;  but  none  of  Lucretia's  faults  had  a  tinge 
of  meanness,  or  hypocrisy ;  and  she  would  have  scorned 
to  purchase  a  crown,  at  the  expense  of  generosity  and 
candor.     Accordingly,  she  frankly  disclosed  all  the  cir- 

24' 


278  THE    REBELS. 

cumstances  to  her  astonished  friends,  a  few  days  after 
her  grandmother's  death. 

"  There  is  no  end  to  the  wonders  in  your  life,  my  dear 
girl,"  said  Mr.  Osborne.  "  Many  a  heroine  of  romance 
does  not  meet  with  half  your  reverses." 

"  And  few  living  heroines,"  rejoined  Henr}^,  "  have 
come  forth  so  stainless  from  the  midst  of  trials  and 
temptations." 

"  It  does,  indeed,  argue  no  weak  virtue,  my  child," 
said  Mr.  Osborne,  "to  decide  rightly,  with  so  much 
promptitude,  in  a  case  like  this.  But  let  us  hear. your 
letter  to  Mrs.  Percival." 

Lucretia  opened  the  paper,  and  read  as  follows  :  — 

"  My  Dear  Mrs.  Percival  : 

"It  is  long  since  I  have  written  to  you,  —  longer  than 
I  once  thought  it  ever  would  be  ;  but  heart-trying  scenes 
prevented  it,  after  my  return  from  England ;  and  when 
their  bitterness  had  passed  away,  I  was  too  much 
depressed  to  make  any  mental  exertion. 

"  I  received  your  husband's  letter,  thanking  me  for  the 
picture  which  .  I  sent  him,  on  account  of  its  extreme 
resemblance  to  you. 

"  That  mystery  is  now  solved.  You,  of  course,  recol- 
lect Polly  May,  generally  called  Molly  Bradstreet,  who 
behaved  in  so  singular  a  manner  at  the  funeral  in  Rox- 
bury.  She  was  my  grandmother  —  not  yours.  The 
papers  will  give  you  an  account  of  the  bloody  affray 
between  the  soldiers  and  citizens,  in  this  oppressed  town. 
She  was  passing  through  King-street  at  the  time,  and 
was  mortally  wounded.  On  her  death-bed,  she  con- 
fessed that  she  exchanged  us,  during  our  infancy.     This 


THE    REBELS.  279 

explains  the  resemblance,  which,  I  have  been  told,  trou- 
bled my  poor  father,  in  his  dying  moments.  This  accounts 
for  the  indifference  my  grandmother  evinced  toward  you, 
and  the  eager  interest  she  always  took  in  everything 
that  concerned  me.  You  may  well  believe  that  I  am 
deeply  ashamed,  as  well  as  grieved,  to  think  that  I  have 
visited  England,  and  associated  with  the  rich,  the  power- 
ful, and  the  learned  there,  under  the  mask  of  an  impos- 
tor. But  I  was  innocent  in  my  gnorance ;  and  I  have 
long  since  learned  that  conscious  rectitude  of  purpose 
will  enable  us  to  go  through  the  most  fiely  trials  vrhich 
this  changing  world  can  offer.  None  of  your  vast  capi- 
tal has,  of  course,  been  expended.  The  large  sums  that 
have,  for  four  years  past,  supported  me  in  luxur}",  will,  I 
trust,  be  returned  to  you  at  some  future  season ;  though, 
I  confess,  I  do  not  know  vrhere  I  am  to  procure  the 
means.  I  will  write  immediately  to  my  agent  in  Eng- 
land, whom  I  would  recommxcnd  to  you  as  a  faithful  and 
disinterested  man.  The  sooner  a  legal  transfer  of  prop- 
erty  is  made,  the  better.  If  you  can  gather  any  partic- 
ulars concerning  my  grandmother,  I  wish  you  to  "\;\Tite 
them.  She  appeared  to  me  to  have  uncommon  strength 
of  mind,  and  ideas  somewhat  above  her  station. 

"  I  am,  very  affectionately, 

"  Gertrude  Wilson." 
Queen-street,  March  10th,  1770. 

A  few  weeks  after,  the  following  answer  was  received  : 

*'  Much  Eespected  Madam  : 

"  We  know  not  at  which  to  admire  most,  the  sudden 
change  that  puts  us  in  possession  of  such  wealth,  or 
the  noble  integrity  that  could  voluntarily  relinquish  it. 


280  THE   REBELS. 

"  Do  not  insult  us  by  talking  of  what  you  have  ex- 
pended. If  my  beloved  wife  had  always  knoAvn  herself 
as  Lucretia  Fitzherbert,  she  would  have  rejoiced  to  give 
genius  like  yours  every  opportunity  to  improve  itself. 
Few  could  have  travelled  in  England  to  so  much  advan- 
tage, and  very  few  have  so  richly  deserved  all  the  enjoy- 
ment that  could  be  found  there.  Never  mention  the 
subject  again,  I  beg  of  you ;  —  it  seems  as  if  you  thought 
we  had  not  souls  to  appreciate  your  generous  character. 
You  write  as  if  you  supposed  this  transfer  of  property 
would  leave  you  poor.  My  Uncle  Tov/nsend's  fortune 
was  ample  for  New  England ;  though  a  mere  trifle  com- 
pared with  what  we  all  considered  yours.  Do  you  for- 
get that  his  estates  were  all  left  to  Gertrude  Wilson,  in 
case  Edward  Percival  did  not  marry  her?  And  how,  I 
pray  you,  can  Edward  Percival  comply  with  any  such 
requisition?  However,  I  shall  soon  be  in  Boston,  to 
attend  to  this  business.  We  will  then  exchange  our 
respective  rights  and  titles ;  and,  be  as  disinterested  as 
you  will,  you  shall  not  go  beyond  me. 

"  I  made  many  inquiries  concerning  Mrs.  Polly  May, 
when  I  returned  to  Canada,  at  the  close  of  the  year 
1765,  but  I  could  never  obtain  much  information.  She 
was,  as  you  say,  a  woman  of  uncommon  strength  of 
mind ;  by  means  of  which,  she  obtained  an  almost  un- 
bounded influence  over  the  vulgar  and  the  superstitious. 
She  was  a  favorite  servant  in  a  rich  English  family  at 
Halifax,  I  have  been  told,  and  received  from  them  an 
education  rather  above  the  common  stamp.  A  wild 
young  Englishman,  who  visited  this  family,  vras  capti- 
vated with  her  beauty,  and  married  her  privately.  He 
left  her ;  and  soon  after  he  returned  to  his  native  coun- 


THE    REBELS,  281 

try,  he  married  the  daughter  of  a  Scottish  nobleman. 
She  went  over  in  search  of  him  —  was  treated  with 
great  cruelty  and  scorn  —  and  returned,  a  poor,  passion- 
ate, insane  creature.  She  never  took  much  care  of  her 
child ;  though,  in  her  intervals  of  reason,  she  treated  her 
with  distracted  fondness.  This  daughter  was  very  beau- 
tiful; and  it  is  not  strange  that,  under  such  circum- 
stances, she  grew  up  vain,  giddy  and  headstrong.  She 
was  your  mother ;  but  j^ou  know  her  story,  and  I  will 
not  dwell  upon  its  horrors. 

"  There  are  things  to  lament  in  the  character  of  these 
people,  most  surely ;  but  their  faults  ought  not  to  throw 
a  shadow  on  their  posterity.  True  majesty  of  soul, 
like  yours,  madam,  can  derive  no  additional  lustre  from 
the  adventitious  circumstances  of  wealth  and  station. 
Lucretia  (when  shall  I  learn  to  call  her  so  ?)  desires  her 
sincerest  love. 

"  I  am,  with  great  respect  and  admiration, 

"  Edward  Percival." 

Montreal,  April  9th,  1770. 

Mr.  Percival  soon  after  came  to  New  England,  as  he 
had  proposed;  and  all  necessary  arrangements  were 
made  with  as  much  delicacy  and  generosity  as  possible. 
Lucretia  assumed  the  name  of  Gertrude  Wilson ;  and 
again  appsared  in  the  newspapers,  far  and  wide,  as  the 
heroine  of  a  wonderful  and  romantic  story. 

24^ 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

"  It  was  not  with  the  bands  of  common  love 
Our  hearts  were  knit  together  ;  they  had  been 
Silent  companions  in  those  griefs  which  move 
And  purify  the  soul ;  and  we  had  seen 
Each  other's  strength  and  truth  of  mind,  and  hence 
We  loved  with  passion's  holiest  confidence." 

During  the  first  year  after  Colonel  Fitzherbert's 
death,  Lucretia  (whom  we  must  now  call  Gertrude 
Wilson)  suffered  much  more  acutely  than  Grace  had 
ever  done.  But  her  superior  strength  of  constitution 
and  of  character  resisted  the  fierce  attacks  which,  for  a 
while,  threatened  to  destroy  them.  The  wounds  in 
youthful  hearts  heal  slowly,  —  but  they  will  heal. 
Time  had  his  usual  soothing  power ;  and  though  Ger- 
trude was  never  afterward  the  same  gay,  laughing 
creature,  overflowing  with  life,  and  health,  and  genius, 
she  gradually  became  cheerful,  and  even  animated.  Her 
mind  was  now  like  a  fine  old  painting,  the  dazzling 
brilliancy  of  which  had  become  delightfully  mellowed  by 
the  touch  of  time. 

Blessings  are  frequently  wafted  to  us  on  the  wings  of 
disappointment;  and  the  hand  from  which  we  shrink 
often  has  healing  in  its  touch.  Affliction  had  done  for 
Gertrude  what  the  music  of  Amphion  did  for  Thebes, 
when  the  confused  materials  of  grandeur,  which  lay 
scattered  about  in  magnificent  profusion,  arose  at  the 
voice  of  his  lyre,  and  formed  themselves  into  one  beauti- 


THE    REBELS.  283 

ful  and  harmonious  whole.  In  early  life,  she  had  bowed 
too  devoutly  at  the  shrine  of  talents,  heedless  whether 
or  not  it  stood  on  the  firm  pedestal  of  virtue ;  but  experi- 
ence had  taught  her  that  the  greatest  gifts  might  be* 
most  shamefully  perverted.  Genius  is  the  electric  fluid 
of  the  soul.  Alas !  that  the  mysterious  and  erratic 
power  which  purifies  the  intellectual  air  should  ever 
leave  scathe  and  blackening  on  the  heart. 

Wealth,  with  all  its  imposing  pageantry",  and  rank, 
with  its  embroidered  baldric  and  blazing  star,  had  been 
idols  before  which  her  imagination  had  bowed  with 
scarcely  inferior  homage ;  and  she  had  proved  theii* 
utter  insufficiency  to  satisfy  the  soul  in  its  hour  of  trial ; 
nay,  she  had  been  driven  from  their  sunny  paths,  and 
found  happiness  in  more  shaded  and  sequestered  walks. 
All  these  lessons,  severely  as  they  were  taught,  had 
produced  a  good  effect.  She  now  began  to  estimate 
men  and  things  according  to  their  real  value,  —  to 
appreciate  qualities  according  to  their  usefulness,  not 
accordins:  to  their  lustre. 

No  one  was  more  pleased  with  these  changes  than 
Henry  Osborne,  for  no  one  had  watched  her  singular, 
and  somewhat  dangerous  course,  with  such  fearful, 
anxious  affection.  She,  too,  acknowledged  herself  pleas- 
antly disappointed  in  his  character.  Traits  of  mind 
which  she  had  not  supposed  to  exist  w^ere  found,  upon 
intimate  acquaintance,  to  be,  like  the  hues  of  the  rain- 
bow, so  equally  blended  as  to  be  inconspicuous,  until  the 
power  of  friendship  drew  them  forth,  in  separate  and 
striking  beauty. 

It  can  readily  be  imagined  what  would  be  the  result, 
when   two   young   people,  never   disagreeable   to   each 


284  THE    REBELS. 

Other,  S3rmpatliized  in  the  same  griefs,  shared  the  same 
duties,  read  the  same  books,  and  frequented  the  same 
walks. 

Mr.  Osborne  had  resolved  to  keep  the  anniversary  of 
Grace's  death,  during  his  life-time.  Her  portrait  was 
hung-  with  evergreens,  —  little  mementos  of  her  were 
brought  forward ;  and  they  talked  of  her  as  they  would 
of  an  absent  friend.  The  twenty-seventh  of  May 
returned  for  the  second  time  since  the  dear  one  had 
gone  out  from  among  them ;  and  no  other  change  had 
taken  place  in  that  affectionate  household.  When 
Henry  entered  the  library  early  in  the  morning,  he 
found  the  ebony  writing-desk  open,  and  the  work-box  by 
its  side,  just  as  they  were  wont  to  be  before  his  lovely 
sister  had  fallen  a  victim  to  her  ill-judged  but  too  con- 
stant attachment. 

His  eye  glanced  from  them  to  Gertrude,  as  if  to  thank 
her  for  the  arrangement  which  had  so  noiselessly  called 
up  visions  of  the  past. 

"  I  like  your  father's  manner  of  celebrating  this  day," 
said  Gertrude.  "  She  who  never  gave  any  of  us  pain 
while  living,  ought  not  to  have  her  memory  cherished 
with  sighs  and  tears." 

"  True,"  replied  Henry;  "^he  is  an  angel  in  heaven; 
and,  if  blessed  spirits  can  know  sorrow,  it  is  fitter  she 
should  weep  for  us,  than  that  we  should  mourn  for  her. 
Yet,  I  can  hardly  think  of  her  as  in  another  world. 
When  I  look  at  that  vacant  chair,  in  which  she  used  to 
sit,  I  almost  fancj''  that  I  see  her  beautiful  golden  hair 
hanging  over  it.  When  I  gaze  on  her  portrait,  it  seems 
to  smile  upon  me,  as  she  was  wont  to  do,  when  I  uttered 
your  praises.     What  a  host  of  recollections  these  trifles 


THE   REBELS.  285 

have  called  up !  Here  is  a  branch  of  cedar,  which  the 
dear  girl  gathered  at  Castle  William,  the  night  before 
the  stamped  paper  had  arrived  there.  Do  you  remem- 
ber that  sail,  Gertrude  ? " 

"  I  do,  indeed,"  replied  she ;  "  and,  oh,  what  changes 
have  taken  place  since  then !  How  altered  are  all  my 
thoughts  and  feelings  ! " 

"  Do  you  recollect,"  said  Henry,  "  that  you  once 
promised,  if  I  would  Avait  a  few  years,  you  should  learn 
to  be  collected  and  prudent, — just  as  calm  as  the  river 
in  summer's  moonlight  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  remember  it  well,"  rejoined  Gertrude, 
smiling ;  "  and  have  I  not  become  almost  a  Quaker,  — 
Friend,  I  should  say,  I  suppose  ? " 

"  I  would  have  you  something  more  than  a  friend^'' 
answered  he,  with  very  peculiar  emphasis. 

"Upon  this  hint,  they  spake."  Many  kind  things 
were  said,  and  in  ver}'-  tender  accents ;  but  it  is  foolish  to 
describe  such  scenes ;  —  volatile  as  ether,  the  spirit 
evaporates  the  moment  you  give  it  air. 

Suffice  it  to  say,  that  Gertrude's  second  nuptials,  in 
every  respect  so  strikingly  different  from  her  first,  had  a 
termination  as  pleasant  as  those  were  unfortunate.  Her 
hopes  of  happiness  were  now  built  on  a  firm  foundation, 
—  that  of  strict  principles  and  long-tried  affection;  and 
they  were  fully  realized.  Mr.  Osborne,  his  long  white 
hair  streaming  over  his  shoulders,  and  his  countenance 
beaming  with  calm  enjoyment,  seemed  like  a  benignant 
spirit,  come  do\\Ti  to  shed  his  blessing  on  an  earthly 
union.  And  it  was  blest,  —  blest  in  mutual  love, 
respect,  and  confidence,  —  blest,  too,  in  the  good  old  age 
of  a  parent  so  justly  dear  to  them  both. 


286  THE    REBELS. 

Governor  Hutchinson  and  Miss  Sandford,  with  whom 
Gertrude  had  always  kept  up  a  friendly  intercourse,  were 
present  at  the  wedding.  The  old  lady,  with  all  her  foi- 
bles, had  a  warm  heart ;  and  she  kissed  the  bride  affec- 
tionately, as  she  said,  "  I  told  you  so.  I  told  j^ou  so. 
I  said  you  would  marry  him,  that  night  he  gave  you 
such  a  lecture  at  our  house." 

Governor  Hutchinson  was  rather  more  cold,  though 
very  polite,  in  his  congratulations.  If  the  truth  must  be 
told,  he  regarded  the  daughter  of  Harr}^  Wilson,  a  pirate 
and  a  murderer,  as  quite  an  unimportant  personage, 
compared  with  the  rich  descendant  of  the  Honorable 
Edmund  Fitzherbert,  of  Tudor  Lodge.  That  ill-fated 
politician,  forgetting,  like  too  many  statesmen,  that  "  a 
straight  line  is  the  shortest,  whether  in  morals  or  m.athe- 
matics,"  daily  made  himself  more  unpopular  among  his 
fellow-citizens.  His  projects  of  personal  aggrandizement 
were  frustrated,  and  his  adherents  baffled  in  all  their 
schemes. 

As  the  troubles  of  the  Revolution  increased,  he 
thought  it  prudent  to  seek  quiet  and  safety  in  the 
mother  country.  Accordingly,  a  few  years  after  the 
period  of  which  we  speak,  he  sailed  for  England,  accom- 
panied by  his  sister-in-law,  and  a  charming  family, 
whom  we  have  not  introduced  to  our  readers,  because 
they  had  not  the  slightest  connection  with  our  story. 

As  soon  as  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Perciv^l  could  arrange  their 
affairs,  they  embarked  for  Great  Britain ;  from  whence 
they  afterward  sent  many  a  generous  present  to  their 
friend,  Mrs.  Osborne. 

They  spent  their  time  between  Tudor  Lodge  and 
Fitzherbert  Hall;  and  Edward  Percival  had  the  satis- 


THE    EEBELS.  287 

faction  of  seeing  his  3'oung  ^yife  the  blazing  star  of 
fashion  and  of  beauty,  yet  as  exemplar}',  as  docile, 
and  as  affectionate,  as  she  was  when  she  first  left  the 
convent  of  St.  Vallier.  She  often  sent  to  Mrs.  Osborne 
the  most  urgent  invitations  to  revisit  England ;  and  flat- 
tering letters  from  the  first  literar}^  characters  contained 
the  same  earnest  request ;  but  Gertrude  had  now  devoted 
all  the  light  of  her  understanding,  and  all  the  warmth  of 
her  affections,  to  the  happiness  of  her  excellent  husband. 
The  political  horizon  soon  became  m.ore  stormy  in  its 
aspect ;  and  Henry  could  not  think  of  leaving  America, 
at  a  time  when  she  needed  all  the  firmness,  the  talents, 
and  the  courage,  of  her  sons.  During  the  whole  of  the 
bloody  period  which  followed,  he  rendered  important 
services  m  the  senate  and  the  field;  and  when  he 
returned  to  his  anxious  family,  in  1784,  after  a  long 
absence,  the  elder  Mr.  Osborne  gave  him  a  blessing 
warm  from  the  heart  of  the  father  and  the  patriot :  and 
when  Gertrude  came,  with  her  group  of  smiling  cherubs, 
to  welcome  him  to  his  happy  home,  he  pressed  them 
warmly  to  his  heart,  as  he  said,  "The  bride  was  dear; 
but  how  much  dearer  is  the  wife  ! " 


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